Beyond Repair
by the typewriter improviser
Summary: While World War II is raging on in Europe, Anna Brightman is just trying to get her chemistry degree. When she's offered a spot on a military project, working under Dr. Abraham Erskine, Anna leaves her lonely life in Manhattan, for the European Theater, where HYDRA is America's main threat. But when Bucky Barnes is next to her, war is the last thing she thinks about.
1. Chapter 1

****Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America *sad sigh***

**This is a story that has been bouncing around in my head since I saw The Winter Soldier a few months ago. I'm going to keep publishing my Supernatural fic, but my updates might be a little slower if I decide to keep this one going.**

**I find it's a little hard to keep updating one story, let alone two. So, if this story doesn't seem to catch some interest, I'm gonna take it down. (you can take stories down, right?)**

**I really hope you enjoy this!**

**~_Christianne_**

**PS~ I really tried to capture Dr. Erskine's German accent. I'm not sure if it worked or not, but I did try my best and am very open to any suggestions.** _(I also didn't wanna offend anyone)_

* * *

Anna POV

I nervously paced in the hall, my skirt swishing around my knees and my shoes making light tapping noises on the marble floor.

"Oh...Oh what am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? _What _am I gonna _do_?" I said under my breath, my eyes slowly widening and my hands moving to comb through my hair at my temples.

"_Lordy__-_what am I gonna do?" I said, just a little louder.

"Some-zing wrong, miz?" I heard an accented voice ask from my left.

I jumped and spun on a heel. "Yeah-_Yes_, yes, I mean yes. Yes, yes I'm alright, everything's alright." I answered quickly, all in one breath, nodding, as I looked at the man who'd spoken to me. He was older, with a graying beard and hair. Clearly, he was German, going by his accent and was wearing round glasses.

"Ah' you _sure_?" He asked me again, this time narrowing his eyes a little and leaning towards me.

"I-Uh—I-I'm sorry, who are you? Are you a professor here?" I asked, quickly picking up my bag from the floor.

"Oh, no, no I am not." The man laughed, bringing his arms out from behind his back where they had been clasped; there was a file in one hand. "I vish _I_ 'ad attended a school like zis." He said, looking around the hall. I wasn't sure what to do, so I nodded, pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

"You look like you've done some-zing you shouldn't 'ave," the man added, a certain knowing, almost mischievous, look in his eyes.

"Um..." I said shakily, instinctively taking a step back from the man and towards the door I had been pacing in front of.

Looking at me out of the corner of his eye, the man stepped around me and opened the door. I shut my eyes as he did, only opening them after I had ducked my head and was looking at my shoes.

"Oh my..." The man said, looking around the small lab. "Vell, you certainly 'ave accomplished _some-zing_ 'ere." he said, walking through the lab.

I sheepishly looked up at the man, looking around the room appraisingly. I'm not sure _why_. The only stocked lab station was by the window, and it was the epicenter of the black streaks that came from the explosion that had occurred minutes earlier.

"'Vat _vere_ you trying to accomplish, exactly?" the man asked, looking at a half-charred notebook on the lab station.

"I-I was trying to-to-uh..." I gulped loudly and tugged on the end of my blonde braid. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I—I was trying to synthesize a chemical mixture. There-There was an electrical component…" I trailed off, looking at the blackened walls again.

The man nodded, and continued to look at my charred notebook. Putting the hand with the file back behind his back, my curiosity didn't let me _not_ look at the name.

_Brightman, Annabelle J._

Confused as to why this elderly German man had my New York State University file, I spoke up again. "Uh...Sir?" I asked hesitantly.

"Hm?—Oh, pardon me," he said, leaving my desk. "I never introduced myself." He paused and held out his hand. "Dr. Abraham Erskine."

"Anna," I said, taking his hand.

"Yez, yez I know who you are." He admitted, a knowing look on his face.

"You have my file." I pointed out, gripping the strap of my bag tightly.

"Yez," Dr. Erskine said simply. "Yez I do."

"...Why?" I asked slowly. The name 'Erskine' seemed all too familiar.

"Mizz. Brightman, iz zere a reason someone wiz your test scores and intellect is going to a school such as zis? Why not…eh…_Cornell_ or _Colombia_?" He asked me. "You 'vere accepted, 'vere you not?"

I shrugged. "I'm the youngest in a family with nine children and one parent. A place like that, even with scholarships, is too expensive. I'm paying for all of this on my own anyway, my father just wants me to go be a school teacher or a housewife somewhere."

"'Vat if you _could_ go to a university like zat?" Dr. Erskine ask me.

I blinked a few times. "I-I'd say it's a bit early." I stuttered out, implying he was drunk.

The doctor chuckled and shook his head. "Miz Brightman, I have an offer for you."

"What kind of offer?" I asked skeptically, narrowing my eyes.

"'ave you 'eard of ze _SSR_? Strategic Scientific Reserve?" Dr. Erskine asked me. I shook my head 'no.' "Vell, I guess you 'vouldn't 'ave." He sighed. "Zey are 'aving me put togezer a team for a project, codename '_Rebirth_.'" He said the project name like it was unnecessary, almost annoying.

I nodded, showing I understood.

"Ze gave me a list of students, vetted and competent of helping 'vit ze lab vork involved 'vit ze project." The Doctor continued.

Then, it seemed to make sense why he had my school file.

"S-Sir, there-there must be other students-from _better_ schools-who would be a better choice-" I started to ramble.

"Perhaps," Dr. Erskine said, shrugging ever-so-slightly. "But none of zem 'ave written over two dozen papers on ze subject of ze project."

"They were never published." I muttered sadly.

"Oh," Dr. Erskine chuckled. "Zat 'vouldn't stop ze SSR from finding zem."

Taken aback, I just stared at the doctor. "I-I'm _honored_ that you would consider me-"

"Oh no, Miz Brightman, I _chose_ you." The doctor corrected me.

"-_Choose_ me," I repeated, getting back to my point. "But I have to decline." I finished. The doctor looked at me, almost confused.

"I-I've worked _really_ hard to get a scholarship here, and I'm almost-" Dr. Erskine cut me off again.

"You 'ave been attending zis school for zree years for a degree, and are only 'alf vay zroo." He told me, making me look down at the floor. "But…I'm sure ze SSR could manage you a doctorate from one of ze more…_prestigious_, schools in New York." He said, a certain look in his eye.

My eyes widened, I was at a loss.

"I-I-" _can't think of a reason to say no_. "What's the project?"

* * *

I had my hands up on the table, my nails tapping against my glass nervously. I knew I didn't have to be nervous, but I was. This was the type of place I go to, not anymore. I looked so out of place in my plain beige skirt and white blouse. My hands kept reaching under the table to run my fingers over a small run in my stockings. Barely noticeable, but the small imperfection made me anxious.

I'd been good about not touching my hair, a habit I had since I was little; when I was nervous, I played with my hair. Pulling the tight curls down and letting them bounce back in place, tucking it behind my ears, taking parts out from behind my ears, things like that.

My father hated it, thought it made me look constantly nervous and skittish. The again, around my father I _was_ constantly nervous and skittish.

I wished Billy would have picked somewhere else to meet. He'd picked a bar not far from the apartment we grew up in. It was all dark wood, soft leather and the newest music. Billy and I used to come here all the time. The first thing he did when I turned 21 was take me here and order me one glass of every type of wine they had. He claimed it was so he would know what kind to buy me for my birthday and Christmas, but I think he just wanted me to get drunk. I didn't. I wasn't a big fan of alcohol.

"Anna," I heard my older brother, Billy, say fondly, then a hand came down on my shoulder and squeezed. My nose scrunched up in annoyance as he kissed the top of my head. "How 'ya been sissy?" he asked as he sat across from me at the table.

I shrugged. "Alright." I sighed, glancing back to the table as a waitress came over to take Billy's drink order.

"Aren't you gonna ask about dad?" Billy asked, leaning back in his chair.

"How is he." I said flatly. It wasn't even a question, just a bored statement.

Billy laughed once, just a little breath out his nose as he shook his head. "Yeah, I don't really care either." He sighed, taking the glass of scotch off the tray the waitress brought over.

"What about the rest of us?" I asked him, trying to sound casual, but I wanted to know about my brothers. I had my fingers on the stem of my wine glass, spinning it on my napkin. 'The rest of us' was a term Billy and I used to refer to our 5 older siblings.

"Fine. Jim and John are working at dad's practice now. Greg is so panicked about, well, _everything_—you know Greg—that he's staying with Aunt Macy in Montreal. Kevin's in the Navy, enlisted last week." I listened intently as Billy went through our brothers oldest to youngest. "And Henry's trying to get into medical school, fast. Doesn't want to go over."

I nodded, spinngin my wine glass again. "What about you?" I asked.

Billy stopped spinning his scotch and looked up at me with a guilty look in his eye. He set his scotch down on his coaster and put a hand into his expensive jacket and pulled out some folded papers. He set them on the table and slid them towards me with one finger.

My gaze narrowed and I snatched the papers up, reading them quickly. "The-The _Air Force_?" I hissed at him, shocked. "What-What about your job at dad's practice?" Billy was a promising young doctor on his way to being a partner at our dad's practice, even though he was only 22, and had two older brothers over him "What-What about—_Damnit_, Billy what about _me_?" I asked, my lower lip trembling.

Billy was looking into his scotch, spinning the ice around again. "Only a matter of time before they really start drafting guys. Not cut out for the Army." Billy reasoned. "'Sides, dad was a medic."

"Yeah," I scoffed. "And he's _definitely_ a man to strive to be like." Billy gave me a slight disapproving look as he took another sip of scotch. "Why didn't you tell me you were even thinking about this?" I asked, folding his papers back up.

He looked at me sheepishly. "'cause I knew you'd look at me like that. With those sad eyes 'ya got." He said teasingly.

We sat in silence, letting the noise of the bar fill it.

"What'd you wanna talk to me about? Sounded bad on the phone." Billy said a few minutes later.

I took a sip of my wine, wirkiling my nose at the taste, before answering. "You know how I wanted to go to Colombia for my chemistry degree?" Billy nodded. "Couldn't go 'cause I couldn't afford it…I-I have an…opportunity, to get my degree from Colombia."

"Really? That's great Anna!" Billy said, grinning at me. He looked so proud.

"But, I wouldn't be going there, not-not _really_." I peeked up at his now confused expression. "I can't talk about it much, but this doctor came to me. Said I could get my degree for free, just assist on a project for the Army."

"Wow…" Billy trailed off. "Hey, why do you look sad?" he asked me, giving my shin a light kick under the table.

"This is for the _Army_, Billy. One stupid mistake by me could put people's lives in danger!" I said in a hushed whisper.

"Yeah," Billy said with a dismissive shrug. "But, Anna, if you _do_ it, you could _save_ lives."


	2. Chapter 2

**Guess who we meet in this chapter! ehehehe...**

**In Captain America: The First Avenger, from what I remember, we don't see _too_ much of Bucky and his personality. So...I guess this is what I'd imagin he'd be like. This is _fan_ fiction, so...yeah...**

**~_Christianne_**

Anna POV

I ducked my head as I heard yet another whistle in my direction.

"Hey sweetheart! You lost?" One particularly loud voice shouted at me.

I just sucked in a breath, kept my head high, and kept walking. I tightened my grip on the armful of files I was carrying and lifted my chin up slightly as I followed Dr. Erskine, who was talking to Colonel Phillips.

"Doctor, are you sure having…" He trailed off but glanced over his shoulder at me before he continued. "For a _lab assistant_-let alone on a damn _army _base-is the best idea?"

"Colonel, of all ze approved applicants you gave me, she is ze one I chose. She vas ze brightest mind I met wizt, and ze only one to understand ze basis of ze formula." Dr. Erskine said simply. "Did you 'vish for me to have picked another?"

I couldn't help but feel a little proud when he said that.

The name 'Erskine' _had_ sounded familiar to me for a good reason; I had studied the doctor's early work last year, even referenced them in some of my papers on genetics.

I'd been going to New York State University for a degree in chemistry and genetics. Normally, any (male) student could get that degree in four, maybe six years. I'd been enrolled since I was 19. I was 22 now, and _barely_ half way there. Dr. Erskine said that if I agreed to be his lab assistant for the foreseeable future, he'd use connections he apparently had to get me a full doctorate in chemistry and genetic engineering from Columbia University.

"Miz Brightman," Dr. Erskine called, gaining my attention. "Please bring ze files to ze lab, Colonel Phillips will have your trunk brought to your quarters." He gestured to a small, cabin like building not unlike the others around it.

"Yessir!" I called out, them already being a ways away. The doctor may be older in years, but that _certainly_ didn't mean he was any slower.

"Ok, lab..." I mumbled to myself as I struggled to get the map I'd been given at the gate. The New Jersey training camp wasn't especially big, but it was very confusing for someone who was more used to the grid-like Manhattan, like I was. The lab was marked with a large X, but finding where I was _now_ was the camp was the difficult part. The continuous whistles and comments certainly didn't help me either.

"Left at the barracks, third concrete building on the right." I said quietly to myself, nodding once before I stuffed the map into the pocket of my sweater and quickly started on the path towards the bunks.

"Hey sweetheart! Want some help with those files? Won't cost 'ya much!"

"How 'bout you twirl a few times for us darlin'!"

"C'mon! It's hot out! Take off a layer or two doll face!"

I gritted my teeth and kept walking, keeping my gaze ahead and my chin up. I didn't even move the blonde curl that had managed its way out of the bun it had been in. Not that I could have fixed it anyway; I needed both arms to carry the files and notes.

I'd begun to completely tune out the cat calls and whistles, but a sharp, raunchy smack on my butt from one of the passing men made me squeal and jump.

I tripped over my own two feet and dropped the files and papers so I could use both hands to break my fall. There were a few gasps, but more laughs than anything, but what really stood out to me was the sound of someone running on the gravel, then skidding to a stop in front of me.

"You ok?" I heard a voice ask, clearly concerned. I was on my stomach on the gravel, my cheek inches from smashing into the stones, which were currently digging into my palms.

"Yeah-I mean _yes_, I'm fine." I said quickly, starting to get up. I felt a large hand on my elbow and another on my forearm, attempting to help me up.

"I'm _fine_!" I all but snapped, shaking the hands off as I stood. Smoothing my skirt and fixing that stray curl that didn't want to stay in my bun, I looked up, and saw a man, my age, with dark hair and blue eyes standing in front of me. I felt a little bad now, snapping at him like that. He seemed genuinely concerned.

He was glaring over my shoulder. "Sorry about them." He said, looking back at me, putting his hands lazily in the pockets of his standard issue kelly green pants. He'd taken off the oversized shirt/jacket and tied it around his waist, so on top he was in a plain white t-shirt with his dog tags over his collar.

"It's alright." I mumbled, looking away from the handsome recruit and knelt down to gather up the armfuls of papers.

"Oh…Oh Dr. Erskine's gonna be mad…I'll never get all'a these in the right order again." I mumbled quietly to myself, pausing to look at a few papers before frantically shoving them into a folder.

"It's _not_ 'alright', by the way." The man said as he knelt down next to me, picking up papers. "Dame like you, in a camp full'a guys who haven't seen a real live breathing female in over two months, 'yuh should be treated like a friggen' princess." He muttered quietly, almost to himself. But it was enough to make me blush, and look at him with a slightly stunned look.

Which (of course), he saw. He just gave me a slightly sheepish grin paired with a shrug, then handed me some papers. With his help, I was able to get all of the doctor's papers back, and mostly in order.

"Uh…Thank you." I said, fixing that runaway curl once more before reaching for the armful of files the man in front of me was holding.

"Where you headed?" He asked me, moving the files he had just out of my reach.

"Uh…Doctor-Dr. Erskine's lab." I got out. I could hold a conversation with people as well as anyone, but when 'people' was male and had pretty blue eyes it definitely hindered that.

"That the new building? By the barracks?" He asked, his face contorting the slightest in confusion; his eyebrows pulled together a little and his head even titled minutely to one side.

"Uh…Yeah—Yes it is." I said quickly.

"Then what are you doing over here? Barracks are on the north side." He explained, looking at me as he tried to hide his confusion and amusement.

I frowned. "No…No the barracks are down there to the left, right?" I asked, nodding down the path I was walking on.

"No, that would be the mess hall." The man said, holding half of my files in one hand while the other was back lazily in his pocket. He looked like he was really trying to hold back an amused expression now.

"What?" I asked. "No, no that can't be right." I added, struggling to pull my map out of my pocket.

"This is the lab," I pointed to the X. "And these are the barracks, so I's just keep going the way I am." I explained, looking up at him pointedly.

"Well, yeah," he said, quickly analyzing the map, then quietly clearing his throat. "But your map also goes…" He reached forward and turned my map so the top was now at the bottom. "_That_ way."

"Oh." I said quietly, feeling _stupid_.

"_Oh_." He repeated, slightly mocking.

"Well, uh, thank you for helping me get my papers, and for showing me that I was walking the wrong way." I reached for the files in his arm, but he moved his arm away, a small smile that was more like a half-smirk.

"Hey! Now, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't make sure a lady like yourself got to where she needed to be safe and sound?" He asked rhetorically. He still had the charming half-smirk on his face.

I wasn't really keen on the idea of walking with a man through a military training base. But, _this_ man had helped me get my papers and showed me I'd been looking at the map wrong. I sighed and looked up at him. "You're not going to give me my files unless I let you walk me to the lab, aren't you."

He just shrugged, the half-smirk on his face. "Well, it's really your best option at this point." He admitted.

I sighed, then pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to gnaw on it. "Uh, this way you said?" I asked, turning slightly and nodding towards the way I'd just come from.

"Ladies first," he said, dramatically holding his free arm out and motioning for me to go. Ducking my head slightly, I started walking, the man falling into step next to me.

"So, what's a young lady like yourself doin' on an army base in the first place?" he asked me, running his free hand through his hair (fixing a few out-of-place hairs) as he looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

I took a deep breath before answering; buying time. Dr. Erskine told me that the project was top secret and to tell no one. But I was a _terrible_ liar.

"I'm a lab assistant." I said honestly. He looked a little surprised. He was probably expecting me to be a secretary or something. "I'm helping the doctor with a…project."

"Then, you _must_ be good at what you do." He said as we turned a corner. I thought about his words, and as I did, the less and less I liked what he was implying.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little more attitude in my voice than before. The only thing I really didn't tolerate from people, _especially_ men, was taunts or belittlements of my intelligence or ability in a lab. He quickly looked back at me, his eyes widened a little as he realized how his words could be interpreted, and probably stunned at my suddenly venomous words.

"This is the lab." I said, stopping him from speaking again. I quickly dug my ID out of my pocket, pausing to clip it onto my blouse and walked to the door.

"Miz Brightman!" I heard the doctor call. "Vere have you been? I expected you here ten minutz ago." He wasn't necessarily angry, I'd say he sounded more worried.

"I'm sorry sir, I-I got lost." I admitted sheepishly.

"You, what's your name, privet?" the Colonel asked the man who was currently carefully handing me the rest of my files.

"Barnes, sir." He answered, straightening up a little but keeping his free hand lazily in his pocket.

"Shouldn't you be in the mess hall, privet?" the Colonel asked, well, it was more like half asking-sternly, half-barking.

"Was on my way, sir. Some'a the other boys where giving Miss Brightman here some unwanted attention. I wanted to make sure she got where she needed to without incident." Privet Barnes, said smoothly. I was a little impressed, on the spot like that and coming up with a smooth, calm answer.

The Colonel glanced and me as Privet Barnes handed me the rest of the files, and I held in a groan when a few men from a passing group whistled in my direction.

"'Zank you, Privet Barnes." The doctor spoke up. "You can return to ze mez 'all."

"Yes sir." He said with a nod to the doctor and general. "Ma'am." He said to me, his lips quirking into the slightest smile as he nodded towards me before spinning on a heel and walking away.

I took a deep breath before turning to Dr. Erskine and smiling the slightest. "Sorry, about being late." I clarified as I followed him into the lab.

"Was zere a problem?" He asked, taking a file I was holding and frowning a little and the out-of-order pages.

"Some of these men think that a woman on this base means a free-for-all." I muttered, dropping the files on a table.

"Ah…" the doctor said, taking off his hat. "Vell, I 'ope you can grow a zick skin." He chuckled.

"I grew up in a house _full_ of boys. I haven't been in that environment for a while, but it'll come back to me." I sighed, shrugging out of my sweater.

The doctor shook his head, chuckling a little at me. "You are a very interesting young voman, Fräulein Brightman."

"Danke." I answered quietly, smiling a little as I pulled on the lab coat I'd been given (it even had my name stitched on the front pocket). I saw Dr. Erskine smile a little when I answered him in the little bit of German I'd picked up from him in the last few days.

"Vell, let's get started, shall ve?"


	3. Chapter 3

Anna POV

I've never been in a lab where the people (men) actually trusted me to do the simplest tasks. They _knew_ that I was there 'cause Dr. Erskine chose me, and that he trusted me and my abilities in a lab. I wasn't an aspiring grad student who was trying to get the professor's attention.

I was here to help the doctor with the chemistry aspect of the project, but that didn't mean I wasn't involved in the more medical side. I had a little prior knowledge about basic medicine, with my father being a doctor and all, but I had a lot to learn. One of the Army doctors on the project, Dr. Peter Mathews, or 'Dr. Matt' as everyone calls him, offered to give me a little extra help. I was a fast learner, and he told me that with a little hard work I could get a good grasp on the more physical side of medicine.

I learned a little more about the SSR to. Of all people, _Howard Stark_ was a part of it, and apparently a _big_ part. Dr. Erskine said that I'd meet him later, and that _he_—Howard Stark—was eager to meet the girl that Dr. Erskine put all his faith in. It all took me a few seconds to process; last week I was going to school full time and working part-time at a dinner, now I was getting a doctorate from a prestigious school and _Howard Stark_ was looking forward to _meeting_ _me_.

I also met Agent Carter, or Peggy as she told me to call her. She was more into the physical and operations side of the SSR, but she was happy to have another woman to talk to. She was nice, a little closed off maybe, but then again so was I.

* * *

It was my third day and I was sitting on the steps of the lab with a book in my lap as I leaned against the building. Most of Dr. Erskine's research and notes where in German, so he'd been translating and rewriting all of them. I thought it'd be easier for me to learn German, than for him to translate years and years of research; so I was reading a German-English dictionary.

"Hey! Brightman, right?" I heard a voice call.

I looked up at the sound of my name and saw a dark haired man jogging towards me. It was only once he was closer that I recognized him as Privet Barnes. He came to a stop at the side concrete steps, lousy crossing his arms and bringing them over the edge of the step below me.

"Hello." I said simply. He sent me another one of those charming, smug half-smiles. It was the second thing I notice though. The first thing I noticed was a dark ring around his eye, and a dark line across the left side of his bottom lip; a _black eye_ and a healing _split lip_. He didn't have _those_ two days ago.

"I just wanted to apologize, for what I said before." He said, looking genuinely sorry. "The, uh, the 'then you must be good at what you do' thing."

I shrugged. "It's alright, Privet." I sighed, taking a bite of my apple. I couldn't keep my eyes off the bruises on his face, and (sadly) he caught me looking at them.

"You should see the other guy." He said, his smirk growing as he raked his hand though his hair again, even though it was already neat and better looking than those of the other men.

He chuckled again and reached over his head at the iron hand rail. He managed to pull himself up, and turn himself around so his feet dangled over the side of the steps. "You know, I don't know your first name." He said, like it was some large injustice.

"I don't know yours." I recanted, shrugging a little.

"I asked first." The privet challenged, that half-smirk back on his face.

"I asked second." I retorted, looking back at my book. I grew up with _eight_ brothers, I could go on like this all day.

"Ladies first." He said, his eyes narrowing a little, that smirk growing a little.

"The _lady_ insists." I said, a _little_ louder. I wanted to be left alone. I'd been having men come up to me more times in the last two days than my entire life; the whole thing was testing my nerves and was a cheese grater on my manners.

He laughed a little, shaking his head the slightest. "Bucky." He finally sighed. "Call me Bucky."

I nodded once, quickly wiping my chin when apple juice from the bite I just took ran down my chin. "My name's Anna." I said, tossing my apple core into the ditch along the road.

"Nice to put a name with the face." He said, still half-smirking. Those cerulean blue eyes had a charming sparkle in them that made me lips twitch, threatening to smile.

"Same." I mumbled, looking back in my book. It was silent for a few moments, but I didn't hear him leave. I peeked up and saw him, one hand behind him to prop him up, just smiling at me like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked slowly, closing my book.

"Where are you from?" he asked curiously.

"What?" I asked in response. "Why do you want to know that?"

He shrugged. "Just tryin' to make conversation." He said innocently. I frowned a little and picked at the binding of the German-English dictionary on my lap.

"Ok, ok, I can take a hint." I heard Bucky sigh. I looked up and saw him grab the railing again and swing his body off the step with surprising ease and swiftness.

"It's was a pleasure to meet you, Anna Brightman." He said genuinely, putting his hands back in his pockets as he smiled up at me. He nodded once before starting back towards the road.

"Manhattan." I blurted out, making Bucky look over his shoulder.

"Come again?" He asked, walking back towards me a few steps.

"Manhattan…I'm from Manhattan." I explained, giving him a small smile.

His grin/smirk grew. "Annie Brightman, the lab assistant from Manhattan."

"Ann**a**." I corrected him.

"Ann_ie_." He said teasingly over his shoulder, walking back to the road.

"Who where you talking to?" Peggy asked behind me. I jumped, quickly getting up and brushing off the back of my skirt.

"I thought you were in a meeting until 12:30, that's why I was sitting on the steps." I said, mildly upset that I was sitting on a hard step. I quickly checked my watch. "For 45 minutes." I added.

"Meeting ended early. Who was that young man you were talking to?" Peggy answered in one breath, looking after Bucky, who had caught up with some men who, going by the friendly shoves and laughs I heard, where his friends.

I shrugged. "He helped me out yesterday."

Peggy nodded, looking after Bucky…like I was. "He's quite handsome." Peggy pointed out.

I shrugged. "I-I guess he's kinda _cute_…" I hugged my book to my chest and turned to go back into the lab. "Like a puppy." I mumbled, lying to myself.

He was _very_ handsome.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, when I wrote this, I was on a bit of a poetry kick. I kinda had to be, I'm taking an AP English class next year...**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**~_Christianne_**

**PS~ Is it ad that I wanna ask for just _one_ review?**

* * *

Anna POV

I bit into my apple as I walked to the lab, looking down at the open book in my hand.

An acquaintance (she wasn't really a friend, per say) had sent me a book she had borrowed a few months back. It was my favorite; _Through the Looking Glass_, my favorite work of Lewis Carroll.

"Watch out!" Someone said behind me, as two hands grabbed my shoulders firmly and pulled me to the left, out of the way of a truck that was going down the road.

Dropping my apple, I pressed my open book to my chest, my heart hammering in my chest. "You alright, Annie?"

At the nickname, I spun around and saw none other than Bucky Barnes looking down at me with concerned eyes. "Yeah-Yeah—No, I mean _yes_, I'm alright." I got out, book still pressed to my chest and watching the truck that would have clipped me and sent me into the ditch.

That surprisingly charming half-smirk made an appearance on his face as he rocked back on his heels, hands back in his pockets. He nodded at the book I was reading. "Whatcha' readin'?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, uh, Lewis Carroll." I said offhandedly, looking at the watch on my wrist. "Thank you, for, uh…" I trailed off, shrugging a little as Bucky continued to stare at me with that casual, smug smirk and bright blue eyes. "Anyway, I have to get to the lab." I finally finished, sending him a shaky smile before I turned away.

"Lewis Carroll, he wrote Alice in Neverland, right?" I heard Bucky ask. I turned, expecting him a few feet behind me, but almost jumped and let out a yelp when he was walking next to me. It was strange, he wore the same kelly green training uniform the other men wore (today, the jacket/shirt was on him properly (unlike the previous two times I'd seen him), but unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his dogtags tucked under the white t-shirt he had on).

"Alice in _Wonderland_." I corrected him, loosening my arms still around my chest, hugging my book. I let my arms drop to my sides, one going behind my back to hold the elbow of the other. "Neverland is from J. M. Barrie's _Peter_ _Pan_."

"Oh, right, right, right," Bucky nodded, looking ahead again. "Never did well in English class." He added with a crooked half-smile and a shrug.

I wondered if he was even listening, but I said, "English was my favorite subject, after science."

I looked up when Bucky chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?" He asked, glancing at me with playful eyes and that half-smirk. I just shrugged again and looked at my shoes as I walked.

"What was your favorite class in school?" I asked. I may not be the best at holding conversations with good looking men, but now was as good a time as any to get better.

He shrugged. "I dunno, I liked PE, I guess." He said, his face contorting the slightest as he thought. "Didn't like siting in class rooms that much, I like to be moving around, doing something. When I was a kid, the school nurse said I probably had AD…AD-Something-or-other, I don't remember, wasn't really listening."

I almost giggled as he talked, but bit the inside of my cheek as he continued.

"I took an art class one year, wasn't that bad, I guess. We got to walk around Central Park to sketch." He continued, glancing at me. "I think I ended up jumping into a ball game though." Bucky added as an afterthought.

"I tried to take a couple of art classes, in high school and college. I'm better in a lab or a library than a studio." I said, growing more comfortable talking with Bucky as I walked towards the lab with him.

"Library? You read a lot then," he deducted out loud.

I sheepishly nodded and looked down at my book. "Yeah," I said. "Lewis Carroll's my favorite author, my older brother used to read me _Alice_ _in_ _Wonderland_ before I went to bed." Bucky nodded, looking ahead again. "Have-Have you ever read any of his work?"

His face screwed up in thought again, a little more than last time. "Who wrote the one poem called the 'Tiger,' only spelt wrong? With a Y or something."

"William Blake." I answered automatically. Bucky gave me a look that I recognized easily, it was a nice way of saying '_Show_ _off_.' "I was thinking of going for a degree in literature before I decided on chemistry."

Bucky shook his head a little, his half-smirk had a little more smile in it as he looked ahead again. "You know," he said as we stopped to let a group of men jogging in full gear pass us. "I knew you were smart, had to be if you're here. Just didn't know you where _this_ smart."

I blushed, taking his words as a compliment.

"So, does a smart girl like Annie Brightman have any reading suggestions for a kid who almost flunked out of his eleventh grade English class?" He asked, a wry smile on his face. "The barracks get a little boring sometimes." He added once I gave him a questioning look.

"Don't sell yourself short." I said before I could stop myself. He looked at me, slightly surprised, with his eyebrows slightly raised, like he was waiting for an explanation. "I mean, I'm _sure_ you didn't fail English class."

"Hey, _almost_ failed." He corrected me, taking a hand out of his pocket to point a finger at me teasingly.

"Sorry. I'm sure you didn't _almost_ fail English." I repeated, looking ahead. "And, yeah,-_Yes_, yes…I do have a few ideas of what you might like." I said a moment later, looking up at Bucky. He looked down at me expectantly.

"Uh, here." I said, stopping off to the side of the road as I held my copy of _Through the Looking Glass_ "I think you'd like the Jabberwocky." I added as he took it, looking over the front before flipping it over to look at the back.

"_Jabberwocky_…That even a word?" he mumbled, turning the book back to look at the front cover.

I shrugged. "It's a good poem." I said after a moment or two. He glanced up at me, a doubtful look in his eyes. "Just take a look at it?" I asked, shrugging. "Read it, take your time, get the book back to me when you're done." I reasoned.

His smirk flickered into a real smile briefly as he tucked the book under his arm and put his hand back in his pocket lazily. "Thanks, Annie." He said, it sounded genuine, and the sound of a genuine thanks coming from this handsome being in front of me made my heart jump and stutter.

I nodded, before glancing over my shoulder at the lab. "I have to go." I said finally, after I quietly cleared my throat.

"See 'ya 'round Annie!" Bucky called as I got to the lab doors.

As I shut the doors, I tossed my apple core into a waste basket and pulled my lab coat from the hook by the doors. I looked up and saw Peggy looking at me with a small smile and narrowed eyes. "What?" I asked, feeling a little self-conscious from her staring.

"You tell me, _Annie_." She said, her smile growing a little. I rolled my eyes a little and walked to my lab station, praying that name wouldn't catch on.

* * *

Omniscient POV

After dinner one night, while the other men in barrack C played cards, or told stories about their sweethearts in the city, Bucky was on his bunk reading.

"C'mon pal, join the fun!" Matty, a kid from Staten Island called, tossing a pair of dirty, wadded up socks at the concentrating brunet two bunks away.

"Ew! Gross, Matty!" Bucky said loudly once the sweaty socks hit his face. "What _are_ you? _Twelve_?" He said in retaliation as he threw the socks back.

"I wanna hear more about those New York dames you knew." David, a legacy kid from somewhere in Rhode Island (His dad was in the Army, all his uncles where in the Army, his grand-dad was in the Army, and so on). Bucky thought he was a nice guy, but he didn't think he was cut out for war. Physically; he sure as hell was built for it at 6'1", at least a buck-ninety and he was one of the best on the training course. But mentally? The guy was just too _nice_.

"I'm busy." Bucky said simply, laying back on his bunk, feet propped up on the metal bars of his bunk's headboard. "Hey, what the hell does _manxome _mean?" He asked a few moments later.

"What?" One of Bucky's other new found friends asked.

"Is it even a word?" Bucky continued, his face screwing up as he looked at the pages of the book he had held over his head as he lay on his back. "Doesn't _sound_ like a real word." He muttered. If there was ever a time Bucky needed Steve to be in the Army, it'd be now; so he could _explain_ this _damn_ poem to him.

"Why are you reading a book anyway?" Matty asked.

"You know, I think this is the stillest and quietest I've ever seen him." Oliver, another recruit, leaned over and said to David, who nodded in agreement. They'd all come here at the same time; three weeks ago, and they were probably right "Think he's sick?"

"I'm not _sick_, you morons." Bucky grumbled, starting to read the poem over again, for the fourth or fifth time. He could feel his friend's eyes on him, when he looked towards them, he saw all six men staring at him. Bucky sighed and sat up, closing the book but keeping his thumb in it to mark his page.

"Alright," he sighed again. "You know that girl, the one working as a lab assistant for that doctor?"

"The blonde?"

"_Of_ _course_ we know her!"

"I'd like to get to know her a little better, if you know what I mean."

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head at the last comment, courtesy of Jeffery, a kid from Queens who _really_ needed to go out the next night they had leave.

"Yeah, her," Bucky said, a little flatter and harsher than he meant to. "Anyway, she gave me this, there's a poem she thought I'd like, and it makes _no_ _sense_." He finished, falling back onto his bunk.

"You actually got that dame to _talk_?" Matty asked, surprised, and in slight awe of the man. "Half the guys here have tried to strike up conversation with her, she just keeps walking."

"How'd _you_ get her to talk?" Another voice asked. Still lying on his bunk, Bucky looked up at the voice and his eyes narrowed slightly.

Andrew Gallagher. The jerk that had smacked sweet little Annie Brightman on the behind a week ago. And given Bucky a black eye and a split lip after he got to the mess hall after walking Anna to the lab.

"Hey there Gallagher. How's the rib treatin' 'ya?" Bucky asked casually, going back to the poem.

"How'd a little punk like you get with a lady like that?" Gallagher demanded, crossing his arms.

"Maybe she prefers punks to perverts." Bucky mused, glancing up at the guy towering over him on his bunk.

"You little-" Gallagher started to threated, but cut off in a wheezing yelp when Bucky reached back and swatted the rib he was pretty sure he'd cracked a week ago.

"_Scram_." Bucky said lowly, sending the pain-filled blonde his sharpest glare.

* * *

"So, it's about a kid killing the jabberwocky thing, right?" Bucky asked the man sitting across from him at breakfast the next morning.

"_Well_," Percy, the man across from him, started, his face screwing up in thought as he tried to think of an easy way to explain the poem. He was a little distracted, not used to having someone like Bucky Barnes (the suave, charming, able-to-throw-a-punch and probably-gonna-be-promoted-real-fast type of person) asking him to explain _poetry_. The only reason Percy was in the Army in the first place was that he couldn't get a teaching job and his wife was pregnant.

"Yes, but it's more than that." Percy started to explain. "You get that the jabberwocky is a terrible menace to the village the boy and his father live in, right?" he asked, getting a nod from Bucky as he bit into a pare. "Although Carroll doesn't specifically tell you, you know by reading the poem that the boy killing the monster was a heroic act.

"At the end of the poem, the boy brings the head of the jabberwocky back to his father and the rest of his village where the boy is celebrated for the wonderful thing he's done for the people of the village. Due to the death of the jabberwocky, the world inside the village changed forever." Percy explained. Inside, he was patting himself on the back for his skills.

Bucky, on the other hand, was nodding slowly, still holding the pear. "So…It's about a kid killing the jabberwocky thing." He said slowly.

"Yes." Percy said again. "Ok, but look," he turned the book towards Bucky. "The opening and closing stanzas are the same." He glanced at Bucky, who was giving him a sort of '_And_?' look.

"It could be, and widely is, interpreted that it means that even though the boy did the amazing thing of killing the jabberwocky, it really didn't have much effect on the world. The toves, borogroves, and raths and the other monsters in their world sill roam around, unchanged, and don't know or care about the changes in the boy or the village." Percy said.

Bucky nodded, his eyebrows furrowing together as he considered what Percy was saying (and cursing himself for staring out the window all the time in all his English classes). "Ok, ok I think I get it." He said finally, just as breakfast ended.

"Thanks pal." Bucky said with a grin, smacking Percy on the back, not noticing how he almost knocked the man over in doing so, as he left to get dressed to run the course with the rest of the recruits.


	5. Chapter 5

**First of all, thank you so much **Saint-Brooke-Lynn **for the review! In my future chapters, I definitely will take you up on the information offer! I'm very interested in World War II, but kinda a novice as to the more detailed parts. Once again, a BIG thank you and a virtual high-five to you!  
**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Anna POV

"Good night, Miz Brightman." Dr. Erskine said.

"_Gute Nacht_," I called over my shoulder as I took my lab coat off and pulled my sweater on over my blouse before I left the lab. As I pulled my bag over my shoulder, I smiled a bit, proud of myself for properly using German.

I was looking down in my bag, checking to see if I had all my files and notes with me.

"Annie Brightman." I heard someone say. I looked up, raking my fingers through my hair, pushing back a few blonde curls as I met eyes with a tall, broad shouldered brunet.

"Bucky Barnes." I said in the same tone, only stunned. Bucky was leaning on the side of the lab, this time not wearing the kelly green training outfit, but regular civilian clothes; slacks, a jacket, a button-up shirt and tie; a _crooked_ tie.

"Brought this, thought you'd want it back." Bucky said, pulling the book I'd lent him out from the inner pocket of his jacket and holding it out to me.

"Oh, thanks," I said, taking it. Bucky had had it for a few days; not that I minded, but I had to admit that I missed Lewis Carroll. "So, what'd you think?" I asked, peeking up at him.

Half-smirking, he shrugged. "Took me a read or two, but once I got it I didn't mind it." He said. I nodded a little, looking down at the book, glad I guessed the right poem for him.

"The fella's and I have leave tonight." Bucky said randomly. "Gonna go out to see if Jersey is really as bad as they say." He added with a grin.

"Oh," I said, unsure what to say. "Well, have fun."

He nodded, fixing his hair (even though it was already neat and combed). "So, does the lab assistant from Manhattan get to leave this pit now and then?"

I looked up at him curious and confused.

"'Cause I heard about this new place in the city…Supposed to have a great band." He said, rocking back on his heels once as he half-smirked down at me and watched me with smoldering cerulean eyes.

I looked up at him with wide eyes, my heart hammering, completely unsure of what to do. So, instead of asking _what_ he was asking me, I said, "Your tie is crooked."

He chuckled once, just a breath through his nose paired with a grin as he looked down to the red fabric around his neck. "No it's not." he said, smoothing it with one hand.

"Yes, it is." I retorted.

Bucky frowned, leaned his head back and looked down at his chest as he fiddled with the knot by his throat. "'kay then, how about now?" he asked.

I shook my head, almost smiling. "You made it worse, actually."

"You know what, it looks fine to me." Bucky proclaimed. "If you think it's crooked, _you_ can fix it."

Not sure if he was teasing me or not, I tucked the book into my bag and reached up to fix his tie. He was half-smirking (half-smiling) down at me as I fixed the crooked tie. I used to do this with my brothers and dad all the time. I peeked up at him once, and when I looked back down, my hands were shaking a bit.

"There." I said quietly, my hands hesitating over the knot briefly, then smoothed the lapels of his jacket before letting them drop to my sides.

"Thanks," Bucky said, that half-smirk still on his face. It was a little softer now though.

"Well, it-it's getting late…I-I…" I wasn't sure what to say, so I just gave Bucky an awkward smile before quickly turning and walking to my quarters.

* * *

I had my cheek in my hand, elbow braced on my desk as I looked down at the letter I had just read.

The quarters I had where small. There was a small sofa and chair in the front, a kitchenette behind it and a small two-seat table. My bed and trunk where in the corner and separated by a dressing screen was Peggy's bed and trunk. The door to the bathroom was across from our beds, and a shared wardrobe next to it.

"Hello Anna." Peggy said as she walked through the door. I made a little 'Hm' sound in response.

"Something wrong?" Peggy asked. I could sense the worried look she was giving the back of my head.

I shrugged. "One of my…_few_, close friends was going to be coming back to New York in a few days. She's been in Portland, where her family lives. Her-Her mom was very sick, so took a semester off of to see her. Her mother got better, thank God…but she can't come back." I explained, a touch of sadness in my voice.

"Why not?" Peggy asked, walking over to lean on the side of my desk. I didn't say anything for a moment, just gnawing on the inside of my cheek.

"My friend's name is Kiku Manami Hamaski." I said simply. Peggy looked at me sympathetically and put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's just not fair!" I exclaimed, standing suddenly. "She was born in _Iowa_ for God's sakes! I don't think she's gonna use her job at a _diner_ to get information that will aid the Japanese troops in destroying America!"

Peggy let me rant on and on about the injustice of it all, how much I missed her and how I could really use her logical, fact-based thinking with the amount of serious decisions I was going to have to make.

By the end of it, I was leaning on my desk next to Peggy, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "She was my only real friend, you know?" I mumbled. "I _miss_ her." Peggy nodded and put her arm around my shoulders, squeezing them a little.

"You know, I heard that the cook in the mess hall is making chocolate chip muffins for the officers' breakfast tomorrow." Peggy pointed out idly. "He's in the mess hall making them right now. We shared a look before leaving our quarters and heading towards the mess hall to see if we could sweet-talk a few muffins from the cook.


	6. Chapter 6

Anna POV

I was walking briskly down the path, two tin cups of coffee in my hands.

The coffee maker in the lab broke. I could deal with a very short amount of hot water for a shower, the less than home cooked meals, the leering men, and the constant need to defend myself in the lab from one particularly stubborn man, but _this_? Having to walk to the mess hall every time the doctor or I needed a cup of coffee?-I'm drawing the line! I am a highly educated, intelligent woman, not a **damn** _waitress_!

"Hey there sweetheart!"

"How 'bout you and I have an experiment of our own, doll-face!"

"A scientist like you might be interested in the _fine_ _specimen_ I got!"

"Why don't you let me help you wash the beakers?"

"Help me, wash, _beakers_?" I repeated slowly, turning to face the group of men I was passing. My stopping and turning towards the men surprised them; I'd been good about keeping my head held high as I ignored them and kept walking. Well, accept Bucky, I guess. If we passed each other, he'd smile or wink at me. Sometimes, he'll just show up outside the lab at the end of the day and walk me to my quarters.

"Well," the man said, a stupid, smug smile on his face. "What else is a pretty little thing like you gonna do in a _lab_?"

"I'm a collage educated scientist that works with chemicals that would melt your stupid face off." I said venomously (and childishly), trying to stay calm as my fingers gripped the handles of the tin cups tightly.

"_Really_." He said, walking up to me, his chest less than a foot from mine. Smirking down at me, he grabbed one of the coffee cups from my hands, still staring down at me with cold, condescending eyes, he took a drink.

He made a face, then turned to spit the mouthful of coffee into the dirt. "You'd serve this shit to a _real_ scientist? Didn't your momma teach you how to make a _real_ cuppa' coffee for a man?" He taunted.

I didn't even think. I just acted.

I threw the other cup of coffee in his face.

Stunned with myself, I watched as he stumbled back, cursing from the hot liquid I'd thrown in his eyes.

"If that'll be all?" I said, looking at the other men, all shocked by what I'd just done. I was too, but I tried not to show it. I picked the tin cup the idiot had dropped and started towards the lab again.

"Hey-Where d'you think you're goin'?" The same man snapped. A hand wrapping tightly around my upper arm yanked me back. I yelped as I was pulled flush against the man's chest. I tried to use my other arm to push away from him, but he grabbed it and twisted it behind my back. I gasped in pain as the tendons and muscles in my arm screamed in protest.

"Now how 'bout you apologize?" He said lowly, inches from my face. My mind was panicking as the muscles in my arm stretched painfully, and my forearm was twisted at an unnatural angle. All I could do was stare blankly up at the man and try to hide the amount of pain I was in.

"Hey, pal, gotta second?" I heard someone say. The man ignored it, frowning a little as his hard gaze stayed on me.

"Hey! Buddy-" This time I saw a hand tap the man's shoulder.

"Wha-Oof!" The half-snarled reply was cut off when a fist collided with his jaw.

I let out a squeak, managing to push myself out of his grasp. I held my left arm, the one that had been twisted behind my back. I heard the sound of more punches, and my attention flickered from my arm to the sound.

"Just _get_!" A voice with a noticeable New York accent said, as a dark haired person gave Beaker-Boy a hard shove, making him stumble towards another building.

_Bucky_.

_What_ _did he think he was_? My self-declared knight in shining armor?

After he watched the Neanderthal make his way to where ever, he sniffed, ran a hand through his hair and bent down to get the cups off the ground. Shaking the dirt off of them, he walked over to me, slowly; like he wasn't sure if I'd flinch or not. I didn't. I never did.

"You alright, Anna?" He asked in a low voice, his eyebrows where pulled together and turned up a little in the middle in concern.

I thought about speaking, even opened my mouth, but I didn't trust my voice not to shake, so I nodded, reaching for the cups Bucky was holding. He pulled them out of my reach with a disbelieving look in his eyes. "_Really_? Why are you holding your arm then?"

I shrugged my good shoulder and reached for the cups again. When he pulled them out of my reach again, my jaw clenched and I sent him a sharp look. "Don't, Bucky." I said in a flat voice. He _always_ seemed to do this.

I was used to dealing with things like this by myself. I can't say I know Bucky very well, but I don't think that type of person would last long with him; they'd break and tell him what was going on in their heads. That wasn't something I was up to doing right now.

"At least let me walk you back to your quarters." He bargained, holding the cups out of my reach again, this time over his head. He was a good four inches taller than me, so it wasn't like I could jump up and get them from him.

"My _quart_-I-I have to get back to the lab!" I said, realizing I was _very_ late.

"Uh-uh, you're going to your place to take a rest." He said, gently putting a hand on the small of my back. I quickly shook it off and gave him another sharp look. Bucky dropped his hand and gave me what I can only describe as an annoyed look.

"Look, the doc _probably_ already knows about what happened, and he'd probably just send you to your quarters anyway. This way, I get to know that you're safe and sound behind a locked door, and you get to save on some walking. Even the college educated scientist can't argue with that, now come on." Bucky said, his voice was authoritative, but soft and filled with concern and worry at the same time.

Still cradling my sore arm, I dumbly nodded up at Bucky. Linking his pinky finger through the handles of the cups, he put his hands back in his pocket. He had the jacket on this time, unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Did he _ever_ actually wear it how he was supposed to?

"He's an ass." Bucky said as we walked. "John," he clarified, jerking his head quickly towards where we had just come from, indicating the man he'd hit and shoved. "Had it comin', if not from me then from some other guy."

I nodded, slowly moving my arm, my face pinching in pain the slightest. I mentally slapped myself for it. My cheek twitched as a group of men whistled. My stomach jumped as I felt Bucky's hand hovering over the small of my back, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to put it there or not. He didn't.

"Why didn't you hit him?" Bucky asked randomly, as we got to the steps of the little cabin. I shrugged, trying to prove that my shoulder was fine, when it was really hurting.

"Hey, make a fist for me." Bucky said, lousy crossing his arms and leaning his side on the side of the building. Frowning, I made a fist with my good hand, holding it up, unsure of _why_ I was doing this in the first place.

"No no no," Bucky said, shaking his head and standing up from the wall, leaning down to put the tin cups on the wooden steps to the door. I almost jumped when he gently took my wrist in his hand, tugging it towards him while his other hand rearranged my fingers. "Don't put your thumb _in_ your fist; you'll hurt your hand." He said, wrapping his hand around my newly rearranged fist, tightening my fingers.

It was an odd feeling; Bucky holding my hand in both of his. It seemed so small.

"Don't completely clench your fist until the second before you make contact. The nose is always a good place to take a swing at, jaw, throat. All else fails you can always knee the jerk where the sun don't shine." Bucky said, patting my fist lightly with his hand, smiling down at me. It was almost a real smile, but there was still just a hint of a smirk.

I nodded to show I understood and just stared dumbly up at Bucky. I knew he was one of _those_ people who got a lucky spot on the beauty boat, but I never really just…just _looked_ at him. He had a strong jaw and defined cheekbones and full lips. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle, even though there wasn't any light hitting them and were framed with thick, long lashes. I knew from school that people who were considered attractive had more symmetry in their faces. And I think Bucky had the _best_ symmetry I'd ever seen on a man.

That's also when I noticed the small, barely bleeding mark on his cheek. "Y-You, uh…" I gestured to his face with the hand I had. His cheek twitched a little, but he just shrugged.

"Its fine, I've had worse." He admitted, glancing down at my hand, still in his, and gently dropped it. He looked back at me and shrugged. It amazed me how relaxed, content and indifferent he could be about, well, everything. I never saw the man frown.

I hesitated, thinking about pressing the issue, but I didn't. I just took my keys out from the pocket of my lab coat and unlocked my door. After opening it and walking in, I left the door open; supposedly inviting him in.

"So, as Dr. Erskine's lab assistant, you get nights off?" Bucky asked, making me look up and over my shoulder. He was leaning his shoulder on the door frame, hands back in his pockets.

Frowning in confusion, I nodded, turning back to the sink. I'd dug up an old washcloth from the drawers under the sink and was wetting. "All I have to do is ask. Why?" I squeezed the rag tight in my good fist, so it was damp instead of sopping.

Bucky shrugged, an over emphasized indifferent look on his face. "Well, you know, I was just wondering…" he trailed off, looking surprised when I walked over to him, the rag in my outstretched hand. He looked at me with those blue eyes that didn't seem to have an end to them and made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, like I'd just had a glass or two of wine.

"Thanks," he said, holding the cool rag to his cheek. Bucky's face twitched again in discomfort, but it was only for a second. He kept eye contact with me for a few seconds, his face losing its usual smugness for a moment. Bucky blinked a few times and cleared his throat, his face gained it'd signature smirk again.

"As I was saying," he continued. "I was just wondering, 'cause that new place I told you about _does_ have a great band and I have a night'a leave coming up in a week or two, and I don't have a partner." He looked down at me with that half-smirk that clearly wasn't expecting what I was feeling.

"A-Are you-You're asking me to go dancing?" I asked, _confused_ more than anything.

"Yes, Annie, I am." Bucky said, almost assuring, as he dropped the washcloth from his face so he could cross his arms lousy over his chest as he leaned his shoulder on the doorframe.

I blinked a few times, frozen. "Uh…I-I…You-I-I don't dance, Bucky." I stuttered out. "I-I just…don't." I said stupidly, cradling my hurt arm and hunching my shoulders defensively, suddenly uncomfortable.

Bucky nodded, his eyes sparkling with _something_ that I couldn't identify. "If you're gonna say no, you can go ahead. Won't hurt my feelings." He said the last part teasingly.

"N-uh-No, no I mean, I'm not saying _no_, I-I mean-" Bucky chuckled and cut me off.

"Ah, c'mon Annie, I just _saved_ _you_ from some jerk with grabby hands," he nodded his head back towards the barracks. "Just _one_ dance." He assured me, the half-smile of his half-smirk showing. I opened my mouth to say something, but ended up just shaking my head 'no'.

Bucky chuckled once and tossed the mildly bloody rag in the sink across the room and put his hands lazily in his pockets again. "Well, I got three night leave every 18 days." He stated, taking a few steps towards me. "So, don't count on this being the last time I'll ask you." He added.

I sighed, looking down at my arm. "You're so confident I'm going to say yes." I said, trying to figure Bucky Barnes out. "Why?"

He shrugged, the crooked smirk made an appearance as he walked backwards towards the door. "'Cause you can't dance, and I am an _excellent_ teacher." He said simply, taking the door handle and pulling it closed with him. The carefree, confident (bordering on smug) smirk fell and replaced with that authoritative mask hiding concern and worry.

"Lock the door behind me, 'kay Glow?" he asked.

"_Glow_?" I repeated, walking closer to the door to lock it when he left. "Where'd that come from?"

"You tell me." Bucky said, the crooked smirk coming back. "You're the scientist who could melt a guy's face off, Miss _**Bright**_man." He stated, a genuine smile pulled at one side of his mouth. Quickly, almost missing it, he raised one hand, and with the side of a bent pointer finger, brushed the bridge of my nose and tapped the tip of it lightly.

Before I could respond, Bucky jogged down the three stairs to my door and started on his way back to…Well, where ever he was going. I shut and locked my door, like he told me to, and leaned on it. I rubbed my nose with my good hand; it felt like someone had run a feather over it, a white hot feather. I moved from the door to sit on my bed.

I'd _never_ been asked to go dancing before. I mean, I knew the basics, Billy tried to teach me, but it was for the good of the men of Earth that I didn't dance with them. While I'm at it, I don't think anyone's ever looked at me twice, let alone multiple times like Bucky had. No one's ever gone out of their way to see or talk to me like he did either.

"Anna? Annie, are you alright?" I heard Peggy say from behind the locked door. She had a key, but I'm guessing that if she was knocking, she wanted to make sure I was ok first.

"Yeah," I muttered, shaking my head. "I'm fine, Peggy."

She opened the door and walked into my room, her sharp brown eyes looked me over quickly. Her nose wrinkled at the grubby hand mark on the upper arm of my pale yellow blouse and my less than neat and tidy hair. "_Bloody_ hell," she whispered, shaking her head as she took off her jacket.

"Dr. Erskine heard, he sent me over here and told me to come over and make sure that little _Anina_ was alright." Peggy said, leaning her hip on the counter. My heart warmed a little.

The doctor, who insisted that I call him Abraham, but I still called him Dr. Erskine or Doctor, had slowly grown to be more than just a mentor to me. He was the type of father I wish I had had growing up, he even called me 'Anina,' the German variation of 'Anna,' because, to use his words, 'If you are to learn German, you need a _proper_ German name. You just can't say '_Schön dich zu sehen, Fräulein _**Anna**.' He said 'Anna' with a choppy, poorly executed American accent. '_Schön dich zu sehen, Fräulein _**Anina'**_, _zat is 'ow one speaks German.'

"Well, you can tell him I'm fine," I said, shrugging my good shoulder. Peggy saw it, and gave me a disbelieving look. I closed my eyes and let out a slow, annoyed sigh. "Peggy. I'm fine. I've had much worse. _I'm, fine_." I insisted, really just wanting to be alone.

Peggy sighed and moved to sit on her trunk not far from me.

"You're a rubbish liar." She said, staring at the wall across from her, like I was.

"I know." I sighed.

* * *

**Leave a review! :)**

**~_Christianne_**


	7. Chapter 7

******This may be my last update for a while, sadly. My laptop charger broke, and by broke, I mean one of the prongs stuck in the wall socket. I have no idea how long it will take for the new charger to be mailed to my house (in the middle of nowhere), so a fairly-long update to hold you guys until I get it!**

*******Note: At the end, the 'Omniscient POV) {Third Person} was originally Bucky's POV, but I couldn't get it right, you know? The only way I could get it how I liked was third person. I find it very hard to write from the point of view of a character I didn't think of on my own. If anyone has any tips on this, leave a review!  
**

******~_Christianne_**

* * *

Anna POV

Weeks went by, the doctor and I were still trying to stabilize and perfect the formula of the serum. I did the best I could, but Dr. Erskine wouldn't let me see the whole formula. It took me asking him a few times before he just turned to me, put his hands on my shoulders and said '_Wissen ist Macht Fräulein Anina, aber es malt auch eine Zielscheibe auf dem Rücken'_.

Or, in English, '_Knowledge is power Miss Anna, but it can paint a target on your back_.' My German had improved over the past weeks; I'd always been a quick learner, German wasn't hard for me to pick up. I was proud to say that I was almost tri-lingual now; I'd done well in the French classes I'd taken in school, and was on my way to being fluent in German.

"_Der Mann bat sie zu tanzen_." I read aloud quietly out of my book, which was in English. "_Der Mann bat sie, zu tanzen_." I read again, trying to perfect the pronunciation, but I kept thinking of a night a few weeks ago when I'd opened my door after someone knocked; Bucky was leaning on the door frame, that stupid half-smirk on his face as he asked me if I was sure I didn't want to go dancing with him again. I shook my head a little, getting the thoughts out of my head as I walked to get Dr. Erskine's mail.

"Hey, Annie!" I heard Bucky call out. I'd grown accustomed to his shouts, random appearances outside the lab and when he'd simply just fall into step next to me when I was walking around the base. He'd kept his promise, every night that he had leave, he'd show up and ask if I had plans. He knew I'd have none, then just continue to charmingly annoy me about it. But I never did go dancing with him.

I asked him why he was paying so much attention to me. He'd just looked at the ground and took one hand out of his pocket to scratch the back of his head as he shrugged. 'You're not bad to talk too…' was his mumbled reply.

"Hi." I said, stopping off to the side of the road so a truck could get by. Bucky jogged to a stop in front of me, dressed in civilian clothes and carrying a large canvas-like duffle bag over his shoulder. That's when it hit me; I'd been here for 10 weeks already.

When I first met Bucky, he'd been in basic training for two weeks.

Basic training was only 12 weeks.

He was _leaving_.

Bucky let his duffle bag fall to the ground with a light grunt, still half-smirking half-grinning. "Couldn't leave without sayin' good-bye to the best lab assistant to come outta Manhattan."

"You _do_ know more things about me, right?" I asked, fighting to keep a smile off my face.

"'Course I do. I just know that's what _you're_ most proud of." He said, still half-smirking at me.

"So…Basic training's done." I stated, glancing down, looking at my book.

"Yeah, yeah…Goin' back to Brooklyn," Bucky said, almost awkwardly. It was odd, seeing him unsure of what to say. I don't think I'd ever seen him like that. "If your ever in my neck a' the woods, look me up." He said, the smirk coming back.

I nodded, looking down at the book I had hugged to my chest. Picking at the binding, I heard Bucky clear his throat. I didn't look up, but I did look up (and almost jumped out of my skin) when I felt his hand gently on my bare upper arm (it was a _hot_ day, so I was in short sleeves). I looked up at him with wide eyes. The gesture was oddly intimate for some reason.

"It was really…_really,_ great to meet you, Glow." Bucky said, the smile seeming more genuine and less smirk-like than before. "And write me, ok?" He said, handing me a folded paper.

_Glow_. As if people calling me 'Annie' wasn't bad enough, he'd given me another nickname. Thankfully, this one seemed exclusive to Bucky.

"Uh-huh." I said simply, taking the folded paper from him and ducking my head down as he took a half step closer. I had always been a _little_ apprehensive towards people, but this was way past apprehensive, I was downright nervous standing with Bucky so close to me. He was so close that he was practically looking straight down at me.

Ever more so when his hand moved to rest on my shoulder; my left shoulder. It was wrapped tight in gauze, 'cause I may have re-torn a tendon when John twisted my arm, and I didn't want to go to Dr. Matt, 'cause he'd just give me a sling and tell Dr. Erskine. Instead, I just had Peggy help me wrap my shoulder, tightly, and go around my upper torso a few times to keep it in place. When Bucky put his hand there, I worried he'd feel it.

"Good. 'Cause I know where to find you if you don't." He reminded me playfully. I just nodded, peeking up at him wide eyed. He glanced over his shoulder and the hand on my arm tightened for a split second.

"G'bye Glow." Bucky said quickly, before ducking down a few inches to _kiss my cheek_. I inhaled softly, a light gasp, really, when I felt his soft lips against my skin and the slightly scratchy feeling that told me he didn't shave this morning.

It was only for a second, but it was one of the best seconds of my life. Top ten. Top _five_.

When he pulled back, I heard a few whistles and voices that where _woo_-ing and congratulating Bucky.

I just looked up at his strong-jawed, handsome face with wide eyes. I tried to speak, but when I opened my mouth no sound came out. Bucky still had that soft, genuine smile on his face, but it disappeared as he took the half-step back to his duffle bag. With the half-smirk back on his face, he hoisted his bag back over his shoulder and have me a relaxed, mock-salute.

"See 'ya 'round Annie." He said as he walked away.

I was still standing on the side of the road, watching as Bucky walked away, when Peggy appeared behind me.

"_Well_." I heard Peggy say, making me jump. I let out a high squeal as I spun around, looking at the dark haired Brit who'd startled me. "Now you _must_ tell me his name."

I blushed and started quickly to the lab; I'd just fumbled over an excuse until Dr. Erskine just chuckled and told me '_Verpassen Sie nicht Anina, Sorgen, zu viel. Mach dir keine Sorgen_,' which was basically telling me to stop worrying so much.

"Oh just his _name_, Annie!" Peggy begged, half-jogging to keep up with me.

"Ann_a_!" I exclaimed.

"Oh please," Peggy scoffed. "You _look_ like an Ann_ie_, Ann_a_." I frowned. 'Annie' was a girl in pigtails. 'Anna' was a woman who was a great scientist.

"Goodness—Are you _still_ blushing?" Peggy asked, lightly pinching my left cheek. I pushed her hand away and nodded. Peggy, being the most perceptive person I know, narrowed her eyes a little. "Was that a first for you?" she asked skeptically.

I peeked up at her through my lashes. "No. I've been kissed on the cheek before." I defended myself.

"A man you're _not_ related too?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. I blushed a deeper red and quickened my pace. "_Oh_ you _better_ write him!" Peggy called after me, laughing.

* * *

Omniscient POV

**Two Weeks Later**

_Bucky, _

_Everybody here thinks we're an item, did you know that? And the more I think about it, the more I think you did it on purpose. I'm sure you know this already, but you gained quite a reputation here. I haven't had any raunchy smacks or, well, let's call them _propositions_, since you left. None of the men want to end up like Andrew Gallagher or John Harvey or Trevor McDonald (you get in a lot of fights, you know that?). I want to say thank you, for that. I would have liked to be _in_ on the idea, but nonetheless it's made being here much more bearable. _

_You know, if you ever feel like you want to get into a fight with someone, may I recommend a very rude, arrogant, self-centered, condescending, sexist _pig_ who I'm forced to work with every day? I swear, I've never wanted to punch someone, like you taught me, more in my life!—And I grew up in a house full of older brothers who liked to pull my hair ribbons and dangle my shoes out the window of our tenth story apartment! Being a woman in my field, I knew I'd have to deal with men like that, but before I encountered Lyle, I've never had a man tell me to go home and put my 'birthing hips' to better use! _

_Bucky, you didn't even know what I _did_ every day and you have more faith in me than half of the people I work with. Only three people believe that I am capable of what I'm here to do; Dr. Erskine, Peggy (she's working with the doctor and Colonel Phillips), and you. _

_I hope you don't mind my ranting. In case you haven't guessed, I don't have many friends. I pray you're not uncomfortable with me considering you my friend. _

_Well, I hope you haven't wasted too much of your time. _

_~Anna_

"Hey Buck."

Bucky looked up from the letter in his hand as Steve sat next to him at the dinner. He nodded a greeting, still looking at the letter. Bucky thought Annie, the chemist from the Upper East Side, would be the type of girl with fancy stationary that cost more per sheet than the breakfast he just ordered. Instead, it was written on a couple sheets of notebook paper, the loopy, feminine handwriting was crooked, at a slight, floaty, upward slant.

"Yeah…Hey." He finally said, dropping the letter on the counter.

The blond man gestured to the letter his friend had in front of him. "Who's it from?"

Bucky couldn't help but smile a little. "A girl." He said simply, taking a drink of his coffee.

"Who?" Steve asked, taking the envelope. "A better question, who do you know in Jersey?" He asked, noticing the postmark.

"Sylvia Perkins moved to New Jersey." Bucky pointed out, trying to sidetrack Steve.

"This from her?" Steve asked, trying to politely get the waitresses attention; he _kind of_ wanted to order something.

"Hm?" Bucky asked, pretending to be distracted by his coffee.

"The letter, it from Sylvia?" Steve asked again, getting a little suspicious. Bucky was his best friend; he could count the number of times Bucky had dodged his questions on one hand. But Bucky dodging questions about a _girl_? Steve almost didn't want to ask.

"Nope…" Bucky trailed off, getting the attention of the waitress and waving her over for Steve.

"Mornin' sweetie, what can I get'cha?" the middle aged woman asked.

"Uh, just a short stack and an orange juice please." Steve said politely.

"Comin' right up." She said, then glanced at Bucky. "Your's'll be out soon."

"Thanks." Bucky called as she walked away.

"You _just_ got back from training. When did you have time to meet a dame?" Steve asked, chuckling a little in disbelief.

Scrubbing his face with one hand, Bucky let out a low, frustrated groan. He usually didn't mind telling Steve about the girls he knew. And the fact that he _didn't_ want to made him frustrated beyond belief.

When Bucky didn't say anything, just sat there with his head resting on one of his hands, elbow propped up onto the counter, Steve tried to make small talk. Not that Bucky answered, but he was just trying to change the subject for his best friend. Steve gave up when their food came. The two just sat in silence.

"Her name is Anna." Bucky said as he started to drown his plate in syrup.

"The girl?" Steve asked, using the side of his fork to cut into the three stacked pancakes on his plate.

"Yeah…Annie." Bucky said, staring out the window to his left. "She's a lab assistant, working with some doctor at boot camp."

Steve laughed. "Only _you_ would meet a dame on an _Army_ _base_."

Bucky glanced sidelong at his blonde friend. "Shut up…'ya little punk." He muttered, giving Steve a light shove.

"So," Steve said, now intrigued by Bucky's Army Base dame. "What's she like?"

Bucky shrugged, leaning more heavily on the arm braced on the counter, holding his fork over his plate, letting the excess syrup drizzle off his hash browns. "She's from the Upper East Side." Bucky stated simply.

"Manhattan." Steve said, impressed. "What's an Upper East girl doing at an Army Base?"

"Getting pissed to high Heaven that no one thinks she can do shit." Bucky sighed, using his fork to push his scrambled eggs into the puddle of syrup on his plate. "_She_ is a chemist. No one there thinks she's…_capable_."

Steve nodded, his mouth full of pancakes. He swallowed quickly so he could speak. "You two goin' steady or somethin'?"

Bucky snorted, then chuckled, downing the rest of his coffee. "Nah, she won't even go dancing with me." Bucky told his best friend with his usual smirk on his face.

Steve gave his friend a confused look. If Bucky was so hung up on this girl, why did he seem so happy that she _wouldn't_ go dancing with him? When Steve asked this, Bucky just smirked and shrugged.

"She's different, 'ya know?" Bucky said as he dug in his pocket for the 95 cents his breakfast cost. "Got a bit of a smart mouth on'er, gets her in trouble." Bucky said pointedly as Steve was putting his own change on the counter for his pancakes. "I think you two would get along." Bucky added with a smirk. Steve just rolled his eyes, shaking his head a little.

"Steve," Bucky said in a teasing, but still serious voice as he walked out of the dinner. He even slung an arm around his shorter friend's shoulders. "I'm gonna _marry_ that girl one day."

Steve couldn't help the little chuckle that slipped through his lips. Bucky gave him a shove, but was laughing himself. He smacked Steve lightly on the shoulder. "You think I'm joking, but I'm serious. One day, swear on my mom's grave; I'm gonna give Anna Brightman a ring."


	8. Chapter 8

**I'M BA-_AAAAAAAAAAACK_! Hehehe... :) My laptop charger finally came, ending my days of boredom!**

**Personally, I'm not a huge fan of this chapter. I wrote several different versions of this chapter, where Anna meets-Er...Where t_he following events occur_, but I hated all of them. I still kinda strongly-dislike this one, but way less than the other ones. It just seems so forced to me, you know? **

***sigh* Well, enough of my writing pity party, here's the chapter! And don't forget to leave a review!**

**~_Christianne _**

**PS~ I'm not sure I reached out to all of you Supernatural fans yet...So...If there are any Supernatural fans out there, check out my fanfic _Reincarnated_! **

* * *

Anna POV

"…I _hate_ maps." I muttered, biting my bottom lip as I tried turning the map around.

I was already five minutes late, and if I was more than ten, I doubt he'd wait much longer.

The serum was _so_ close to being perfect. Dr. Erskine was quite frustrated with himself; he had the serum much more perfected in Germany, but when he, for lack of a better word, escaped from under Johann Schmidt's thumb, not all of his research made it to America with him.

I wanted to stay in the lab, finish the work, but the doctor insisted that I be the one to go to the lab in Brooklyn the actual procedure would take place in, and meet _Howard Stark_ to compare notes, get updates and, as he put it, '_Sehen Sie die Welt Sie leben, Anina_!' (_See the world you live in, Anna!_)

"This is…_Lordy_—what street is this?" I asked myself, one hand in my hair, keeping some disheveled curls out of my eyes as I struggled to keep my bag on my shoulder and see the map properly.

I could map out chemical equations and combine them without consulting textbooks or my notes—_Hell_, without writing it down— but I couldn't find my way to a lab in _Brooklyn_.

I was squinting at my map, my head bent forward. "_Oh_! I'm so sorry!" I yelped as I crashed into someone. I quickly shoved my hair back and looked at who I'd ran into. "I-I wasn't watching where I was going—"

"It's fine." The man said. He was my height (if that) blond, and currently had his jacket sleeve pressed to his bleeding nose. "Not your fault. No harm done." He added with a small, wry smile. It _was_ my fault, though; he was standing close to a building, out of the way from the people walking.

"Not sure I could'a done _any more_ harm." I muttered, my gaze going from his bleeding nose, to the bruise forming on his jaw, to the dirt smears on his shirt and knees, _and_ the way he was favoring his right leg. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah." He said, nodding a little too eagerly. "Yeah, I'm fine." It was almost funny (in a very sad way) how hard he was trying to convince me, a stranger, he was in _perfect_ _condition_.

I frowned. "Are you sure? I think you may have broken your nose." I said, eyeing the swollen, red part of his face.

"I don't think I did, just bruised." The guy assured me. Something made him sneeze, and he winced painfully as he tried to mop up the blood that had spurted out.

Unable to hold my hand back, I reached forward and lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. The pressure I used couldn't even rip the crust of a piece of fresh bread. "_Ahh_!" the guy yelped, wincing as he jerked his head away. His blue eyes clearly asking me _why I would do something like that_.

"Broken." I said. His blond eyebrows were furrowed in pain as he looked at me with sharp blue eyes.

"Sorry it took so long; Bobby's pretty busy today. Today's one'a the hottest to far this sum-…Anna?"

I spun around when I heard _Bucky_ of all people say my name. He looked completely shocked as he stood there, a few feet from both me and the beat-to-Hell blond. He had an ice pack his hand.

"Thanks," the blond said to Bucky, greedily taking the icepack and holding it to his nose and jaw.

"Hi." I said, looking at Bucky with a small smile on my face.

"Uh, hi." He repeated, then laughed once before shaking his head a little. "Steve, this is Anna." He said, gesturing to me. "Anna, this little punk is Steve." He said, giving the small (compared to him) blond a light shove.

I'd read about Steve in Bucky's letter, and when he was still on base Bucky talked about him a lot. Now that I had a name to put with the face, I wondered why I didn't recognize him right away. Short, blond, 100 pounds soaking wet, and more often than not sporting a fresh bruise or two.

"Anna, nice to meet you," Steve said with a bit more of a smile. "I, uh, I'd shake your hand, but…" he trailed off, holding one of his blood smeared hands up sheepishly.

"Its fine," I assured him. "It's great to meet you."

"What are you doin' in Brooklyn?" Bucky asked, taking his worried gaze off Steve and looked at me.

"I have an appointment." I said simply. "Don't know where it is and I'm already ten minutes late."

"What's the address?" Bucky asked me. I handed him my map. He chuckled once.

"What?" I asked. "Did I have it upside down again?" I asked sarcastically.

"Nope." Steve said, who was also looking at the map, and looking a little confused as he missed the inside joke that was making Bucky's eyes sparkle when he gave that half-smirk.

"This place is just down there." Bucky pointed down the block. "C'mon, we'll walk you, right Steve?" He gave his friend a grin.

"Yeah. Yeah sure." Steve said, his voice muffled from under his ice pack, but he seemed genuinely happy to walk me to the address.

"There. It's settled. C'mon." Bucky said again as he got off the building he was leaning on and started down the block.

"You know, Steve broke his nose." I said, glancing at Bucky.

"Yeah, I know." Bucky said casually.

"Hey! I'm _right here_!" Steve protested. "And I'm sure it's not broken, just bruised." He mumbled.

"My brothers used to come home beat up all the time. They'd always pick fights with the Richardson boys on the next block. I know what a broken nose looks like." I told Steve. He just looked away and mumbled something.

"There it is, across the street there." Bucky said a minute or two later. We'd walked about three blocks down from where I'd bumped into them. I decided not to tell them that I walked right past the building—_twice_—when I tried to find it myself.

"Thank you." I said, looking at both Steve and Bucky. "Thank you _so_ much."

"No problem." Bucky said with that smug, charming little half–smirk. "Hey, maybe when you're done we could meet up. Go get lunch or something." Bucky added as I took a second to tuck my hair back in a bun and fix my blouse.

I turned towards him, then glanced at Steve. "Uh…O-Ok." I said, thinking momentarily. "I have to catch the train back to New Jersey at 3 o'clock." I told them.

"Great." Bucky said, looking at his worse-for-wear wrist watch. "How long do you think you'll be?"

"An hour? Maybe an hour and a half." I shrugged.

"We'll be here." Steve said from under his ice pack.

"Great." I said, smiling. I didn't look directly at Bucky as I smiled; I'd end up blushing. "See you then!" I said quickly before jaywalking across the street and going into the old antique shop.

I stuffed the map into my bag as I walked to the back counter.

"Wonderful weather this morning." The elderly woman behind the counter said.

"Yes, but I always carry an umbrella." I said, repeating what Peggy and Phillips had drilled into me the last two days. Phillips more than Peggy; she had faith in me and the Colonel didn't; I don't think he trusted me not to cut myself with a butter knife. The woman just nodded and reached under the counter.

"I believe it's in the back room." She said, glancing towards the back of the store when she saw my confused look.

I nodded, clutching the leather strap of my bag as I walked to the back of the store. I followed the directions I had scribbled on a scrap of paper and walked to the very back of the store. I stared at the bookcase, wondering if I was the victim of a joke. I jumped and let out a little squeak when the book case opened.

"Well, _you_ **must** be Anna Brightman." A voice said as I stepped into the plain gray hallway. I looked to my left and saw a man with slick black hair and a thin mustache looking up from blueprints on a table.

"Yeah-_yes_ I mean yes," I said, shaking my head a little as I held my hand out. "I'm Anna." I said stupidly as I held my hand out.

"The doctor talks a lot about you." The man said, shaking my hand. "Howard Stark." He introduced himself, a confident grin on his face.

"Oh." I said dumbly. I should have recognized him. I guess I was more used to the three piece suits and flashy ties he wore in public than a plain white button up rolled up to the elbows.

"So, shall we?" he asked, holding his arm out towards the doors at the back of the hallway. I nodded, loosening my grip on the strap of my bag as I walked with Howard. He took a wide stride ahead of me at the door, dramatically pulling them open.

"Well, what'd'ya think Brightman? Good enough to make a super soldier?" He asked, grinning.

I was looking around, wide eyed at the equipment being assembled around me. "Yeah…yeah I think it'll work." I said eventually.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for such a late update! I've been out of town. **

**I drove 7 hours just to get to a descent mall to get some new clothes for school. I lost about 15 pounds since last fall because of some ADD meds I take that mess with my appetite in a massive way, and NOTHING fits. Side note; I went to the doctors yesterday when I got back, and she told me I'm more than 5 pounds underweight and have to gain it back. Which means all the stuff I just bought won't fit. :|**

**Sorry about the ranting. Normly, I talk to the friends I have out there in the real world, but they are all at band camp. I never thought I'd be jealous of people at band camp. God...I wish I could play an instrument without making dying-cat-being-eaten-by-a-whale-sounds. **

**Well, enough of the joys of my life, about the chapter; I have to say, this isn't one of my favorites. I find that I have a hard time writing pre-serum-Steve. I don't know why...Just seemed harder... Anyway, it's a bit short, filler-ish and fluffy, but; happy thought! :)**

**Enjoy!**

**~_Christianne_**

Anna POV

An hour and 45 minutes later, I walked out of the antique shop. I used a handkerchief I had found stuffed at the bottom of my bag to wipe the light sheen of preparation off my forehead and tried to scrub the black, blue and white ink smears on the sides of my hands.

"Do you know what she's working on?" I heard a voice I easily recognized as Steve say. For such a small man, he had a deep voice.

"Above my pay grade, pal." Bucky sighed.

"Hello." I said as I walked down the stairs and around to where they were; leaning against the side of the steps.

"Annie, took you long enough." Bucky said as that smirk returned to his face, making his blue eyes sparkle slightly.

I let the 'Annie' slide and shrugged. "Those people can really talk." I sighed. "So, lunch?" I asked.

"Yes," Bucky said, getting off the wall and clapping his hands once. "I'm _starving_." He complained.

I saw Steve roll his eyes slightly, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. "I'm _sure_ you are." He said sarcastically.

"Hey!" Bucky said defensively. "I'm a growing boy." Bucky added in a joking tone, shoving Steve's shoulder as we walked. I didn't know exactly where we were going, but since these two _lived_ in Brooklyn, and I got lost, I figured it'd be better to just follow them.

* * *

"C'mon, just tell us!" Bucky said, mouth full.

"Can't." I said again, taking a sip of my soda. Bucky and Steve were trying to get me to tell them what the doctor and I were trying to do. They even tried to bribe me with hotdogs (the 'best in Brooklyn'), but it wasn't working.

"Just a hint?" Steve asked hopefully. He'd barely touched his hotdog. When you have a broken nose, eating wasn't exactly a _fun_ thing to do.

"I _can't_." I insisted. "I signed papers and everything! Just telling you two that I'm _working on_ a top secret project is against the rules!"

"Alright _alright_, we'll stop asking." Bucky sighed, stuffing the last of his hotdog in his mouth in a very ungentlemanly manner, but the action was still annoyingly endearing and charming. He crumbled the wax paper it came in into a ball and chucked it at the garbage can close to the picnic table we were seated at. He missed and got up with a groan to pick it up and toss it into the trash can.

"You know, that's gonna heal crooked." I pointed out to Steve, gesturing to his black and blue swollen nose.

"I'll be fine." He said in an exasperated tone.

"You should really get it fixed." I said, pressing the issue. "Bucky told me you have allergies, a broken nose like that, if it heals wrong can mess with your sinuses and airways." I told him.

"Can't go to a hospital." Steve muttered, then mumbled something under his breath, something about money I think.

"I could fix it for you." I said as Bucky took his seat next to me again.

"Fix what for who?" he asked curiously as he sat back down.

"I could fix Steve's nose." I told him.

"Really?" Bucky asked, almost doubtful. "I thought you were going to college to be a chemist-doctor, not a fixin' people-doctor."

"Well, yeah, I was, _am_, sort of. The point is, that I grew up with a bunch of rough housing brothers and have fixed my fair share of broken noses." I said, looking pointedly at Steve.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Is it gonna hurt?" he asked weakly.

"Well, less than if you don't let me fix it." I said. It was a bit of a half-truth, but it was true enough.

"Fine." Steve said begrudgingly.

"Bucky, would you mind grabbing some napkins please?" I asked as I flexed my fingers under the table.

"Back in a jiff." He said, smacking the top of the table once before jogging off towards the hotdog stand.

When he came back with a handful of napkins, Steve had moved to sit on my side of the bench, an apprehensive look on his face. Bucky leaned on the table behind me, the napkins in his fist.

"Alright…" I said lowly, curling my pointer and middle finger in slightly, and lightly grasped the bridge of Steve's nose between my knuckles, he winced. My other hand was palm first on his forehead. "Oh three, ok?" I got a quiet 'Uh-huh' in response and he pinched his eyes shut.

"Ok…" I said quietly, taking a deep breath. "One…" I trailed off. Before I even had the words out of my mouth, I grasped the bridge of Steve's nose tightly between my fingers and pulled forward as the hand on his forehead kept him from leaning forward.

There was a muffled crunching sound paired with Steve's odd, high pitched yelp. "Where'd two and three go?" he complained as he grabbed the napkins from Bucky's waiting fist to wipe up the small amount of blood that was coming from his nose.

"I dunno." I shrugged, batting his hands away from his nose to look at it. "That's how my momma always did it with my brothers." I reasoned.

"Looks a lot better." Bucky said. "I think Anna really improved your face." He added jokingly. I looked at him with a sidelong gaze and nudged his arm. Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh.

* * *

After I played nurse, I had to get back to the train station. Steve didn't want to spend any more time in clothes with bloody cuffs than he had to, so he went back to his place. I told Bucky that I could make it to the station on my own, but he insisted on walking me.

"I was promoted, you know." He said as we were walking.

"Yeah. Sargent." I said, not making eye contact. When he didn't say anything, I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye and saw him with that smug little smirk in his face, looking down at me. I mentally smacked myself; knowing he was promoted was something I could only know if I snuck a look at his file…which, I did.

"But, that's what happens when you enlist, right?" I said awkwardly, trying to pick conversation back up.

"Uh-huh." Bucky said, his blue eyes now looking intently at the sidewalk. They stayed down for the rest of the walk. They were still downcast as he held the door to the train station open for me.

"It-It was great to see you again." I said honestly.

"Really was, Glow." Bucky said, his eyes finally brightening up and looking at me again. "And hey, don't be a stranger. Let me know when you're comin' up here again, I'll walk 'ya right to the lab so we can skip the whole Steve-with-a-broken nose fiasco." He said, one of his hands came up of his pocket at gently rested on my upper arm. His thumb drew a soft circle on my shoulder before he squeezed a little and let go.

"I will." I said quietly, looking up at him. We sort of just looked at each other after that. I wasn't sure if he was going to say something else, or if I was going to blurt something out, but neither of us got a word out; a voice over the speakers called out my train.

I just smiled a little and raised a hand in a small wave. Bucky smiled, this one was about three-fourths real smile, one-fourth smirk. I was just about out of ear shot when I heard him call, well, _yell_ something at me.

"_Don't forget to write me, Glow!_" he'd yelled. I spun around in shock and saw him standing there, hands cupped around his mouth to make his voice louder. My face went from shocked, to annoyed. My nose scrunched up and my lips pressed together as I tried to smile. I shook my head and got on my train.


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh, last day of summer vacation, how shall I spend you?**

**I know! On my laptop writing, and making a cake!**

**...Sometimes I feel like I need a life, then I remember the internet and forget about that. **

**Well, this chapter is a bit short, so, I'll probably post another later today. Keep an eye out for it!**

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Anna POV

"The chamber will contain the vita-rays, and the reflective inner coating will bounce them back onto whatever poor sap is in it-"

"-Saturating the cells and infusing them with the serum." I finished, cutting Howard of, nodding as I looked over the blue prints. "This-This is _perfect_." I said, leaning back from the table and fixing my hair, a few curls had fallen out of my bun as I leaned over the table.

"Thank you doll," Howard said smugly. I laughed once, just a breath through my nose, and shook my head. I was back in the lab in Brooklyn working with Howard. I hadn't told Bucky about this trip, as much as I wanted to. As fun as last month was, the actual trip; the train ride and finding the lab, had stressed me out to the point of asking Colonel Phillips outright for a car to take me to the lab instead of taking the train again. I wanted to see Bucky, I really wanted to, but even if I just spent a half an hour with him, then went back to the lab, I wouldn't be able to focus on anything for _days_. Happened that last time.

"Where are you getting the power, though? No generator I've ever heard of can produce the energy we'd need for this to be successful." I asked, noting the large voltage number scrawled on my notebook; I'd done the equation a few minutes ago.

Howard sighed and wiped a hand over his face, letting it come to rest on his chin as he braced his elbow on his other arm crossed over his chest. "_That_, I haven't figured out yet. I've tried to make a generator that can meet the needs for this, but they blew up." He sighed, squinting at the blueprints.

"They…blew up." I repeated, trying to keep the same casual tone he had. Howard wasn't anything like I thought he was going to be. Yes, he was just as cocky, confident and charming as the rumors said he was, but he was _smart_. Anyone who said otherwise was an idiot. And he was, for lack of a better word, nice. When we took a break for lunch, he actually seemed like he genuinely enjoyed my company and wanted to get to know me.

"Yeah." He said, distracted as he looked at the blueprints and then turned to look at the lab behind us. Pulling an older looking print out from under the new one we had been looking at, an idea formed.

"What if you tapped directly into the Brooklyn power lines?" I asked, looking up from the paper as I heard Howard turn around. "This is the lab _before_ you renovated it, right? One of the main lines runs right under it." I explained, tracing my finger over the dark blue line that went through the lab area on an old blueprint.

"That power line would only get us to 75% power." Howard stated, doing the complicated math in his head.

"Not if all other power was diverted through it." I added, quickly doing the equation in my notebook. "That'd get us just over the 100% mark."

Howard slowly started to nod. "Yeah…_Yeah_, that'd work." He realized, slowly gaining that smug grin back. "If you ever get bored of government work, you got a job at Stark Industries waiting for you." He told me. I smiled, and blushed a little at the compliment.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said.

"Good." Howard said, then went back to the blue prints. "Now, what about the injection system? Not sure your garden variety syringes and needles are going to cut it…"

"Well, what about-"

"Miss Brightman!"

"Yes?" I asked, turning away from the blueprints. Already stressed, someone cutting me off by yelling my name didn't really help. A young assistant, probably only 19, if that, rushed up; a letter in his fist.

"A-A general, left this, for you," he panted, holding it out to me.

"Thanks," I said, giving him an appreciative nod. He grinned, gave me a quick, sloppy salute, and rushed off.

As Howard explained his complicated injection idea, I ripped open the letter. As I read it, I thought I was going to be sick. I grabbed the edge of the table tightly in case I fell over.

"So, when the guy gets-_Hey_, Anna," Howard asked, nudging my arm, thinking I wasn't paying attention.

When he saw my quivering bottom lip, his brow furrowed. "Everything alright?" he asked carefully. I just shook my head 'no.' He just stared at me for a second, then looked over my shoulder at the letter I was holding. Then he yelled for someone named Jeffery.

"You, are going back to the base." Howard said, hands on my shoulders as he steered me towards the doors. I numbly let him, clutching the letter to my chest. "You're gonna get outta your work clothes, get in a comfy chair, maybe a bed, depending on your accommodations. Read a book, listen to the radio, do a crossword."

"But-But I have to-" I tried to speak.

"Ah-Ah-Ah-!" Howard cut me off, holding up a finger. "Emotional people _don't_ belong in that lab." He stated, helping me into a car. After closing the door, I heard him smack the back bumper and Jeffery started driving.

Before we'd even gotten to the next block, I was sobbing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, here it is! The second chapter of the day!**

**Review!**

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Anna POV

"_Hier_." Dr. Erskine said (_Here_), grabbing my hand and putting a few dollars in it. I looked at him oddly. "'ave fun, _Anina_." He added, curling my hand around the bills. He patted them once before going with the officer from the recruitment office.

We were at the Modern Marvels of Tomorrow exhibition for Dr. Erskine to get some files, something I was actually looking forward to. And, he'd just given me seven dollars and told me to go have fun. The way he said it didn't really give me a choice.

Standing there, stupidly I might add, I put the money in my coin purse and sat on the edge of the fountain I was in front of. The doctor and I had gotten rooms at a local hotel (paid for my Howard Stark of course), so I had all night.

I could go see Howard's demonstration, but if he saw me there he'd probably make me come up onto the stage with him, and finally plant that kiss on me that he's been joking about. Neither of those things sounded like something I wanted to subject myself too.

I didn't really want to see any of the exhibits. It'd just be a waste to see all those things and not be interested in them.

I pulled the folded up letter from the pocket of my sweater and flattened it out on my leg. I ran my fingers over my typewritten name on the envelope and I felt my lip start to quiver again, and I bit down on it hard to stop it.

"Annie?" I looked up when my name was called. A little of my sadness was flicked away as I saw Bucky_,_ of all people. He was dressed in his military uniform, hat and all. His hat was tipped to one side; it was a small rebellion for someone in the military.

"Hi." I said, trying to smile. I gestured vaguely to his clothes. "Gettin' used to them?"

He chuckled, looking down at himself. "Guess so," he said, wandering over to me. I looked up and saw Bucky's blue eyes narrowed at me. "Everything ok?" He asked me, sitting next to me on the fountain ledge.

"Uh…You-You know how I-I come from a big family?" I asked, more than a little proud that my voice didn't shake.

"Six big brothers, right?" Bucky asked, still looking unsure and worried.

I didn't know how to talk about this to someone. Well, I talked about this sort of thing with Kiku, but with the…_situation_, it took two or three weeks just to get a letter one way. Then, there was the fact that I just didn't want to talk about it, I couldn't talk about it. I handed Bucky the folded letter. He took it, and after he had a second to just read the first few sentences, Bucky looked at me with concern in his cerulean eyes.

His gaze flickered over my head, then back to me and the letter I'd handed him. He folded it back up and put it back in my hands. "Don't move. I'll be _right_ _back_." He said, standing and jogging off somewhere.

I looked back at my folded letter, and thought about what it _meant_.

Of the six older brothers I had, Billy was the only one who paid much attention to me growing up. He'd enlisted, he was a Sargent, like Bucky, in the Air Force. He went through training quickly, ended up overseas in less than 6 months.

His plane was shot down last week. He was killed.

"Ok," Bucky said, stopping in front of me, clapping his hands once. "C'mon." He held his hand out to me. I gave him a questioning look, not moving.

Bucky rolled his eyes and that little half-smirk made an appearance again. "You need a little uplifting, Glow. Not to brag, but that's my specialty."

I hesitated, still not moving.

"You know what? You don't get a choice in this." He said matter-oh-factually, reaching forward and taking my hands, pulling me up and looping my arm through his. "So, what do you wanna do?"

* * *

"Why don't you tell me about him, Billy I mean." Bucky suggested as we walked through Prospect Park. I still had my hand resting in the crook of Bucky's uniform clad arm and my fingers tightened a little when he asked.

"He-He was the youngest of my older brothers." I started slowly. "He is…He _was_, only six months older than me." I said, looking at the ground.

"_Six_ months…Uh…" Bucky's face was screwed up a little in confusion as he glanced at me.

"Yeah…My father wasn't really the _best_ man in Manhattan." My words came out a little harsher than I meant. My grip on Bucky's arm must have gotten tighter, because he shifted a little, as if he was uncomfortable. I loosened my grip and continued.

"Although, his secretary didn't seem to care." I explained quietly, looking at my shoes as we walked. "I-I never met her, my birth mom. I don't think of her as my _real_ mom…she just gave me to my dad and headed off to San Francisco. My real mom was the woman who raised me."

Bucky stayed quiet, but nodded a little now and then as he kept his deep, smoldering blue eyes on my face.

"She died when I was 7, I-I'm not sure why. No one told me." I was practically whispering now, looking at my shoes as we walked slowly. "When my brothers turned 18, they all just…_left_. I think they were ashamed to have a father who stepped out on their momma…Ashamed that they had a little blonde reminder of it in their brunet family. Billy was the one who took care of me, you know?" I glanced up at Bucky, who was looking like his heart was breaking as he listened to me. "Made sure I did my all my homework, helped me with it when I needed it…I think he even came to my school meetings a few times when our father was too busy to deal with them…

"And-And he…he's just _gone_." I said a little louder, my voice shaking. I held onto Bucky's arm a little tighter.

"That-That seemed like a better idea in my head…" I heard Bucky sigh. "I just dragged you through all'a that…Jeez, I'm sorry, Annie." He said, looking down at me.

"No…No, it-it's fine Bucky." I said, my voice a little steadier as we kept walking. "You know…I-I've never told anyone that." I peeked up at Bucky, and saw how the lights from the city cast a shadow on his face from the crooked brim of his uniform hat and only let me see one of his blue eyes sparkle.

"Well, I feel honored." Bucky said lightly, but sincerely, as he covered my hand with his free one. I smiled and looked down from his gaze.

"I grew up in an orphanage." Bucky said, seemingly randomly, a few minutes later. I looked up at him, surprised. He just nodded and kept talking. "Yeah, since I was four, when my folks died."

"Do…Do you remember them at all? Your parents?" I asked hesitantly.

He shrugged. "I have some'a their things…But not a lot'a, _memories_, I guess…" he trailed off, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

We kept walking, talking about everything and anything that came to mind.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, looking up at Bucky again.

"Shoot." He said, looking at me with that little half-smirk.

"Well…" I trailed off a little, biting my lip, wondering if I really wanted to know the answer to my question. I could hear a saxophone playing a ways away in the park. "I was wondering… why do you keep going out of your way to talk to me, or-or to spend time with me?"

"Didn't you ask me that already?" He asked, his lips quirking up slightly.

"Yeah." I admitted.

"What did I say?" He asked. I wasn't sure if he was going say something funny, or if he was genuinely asking.

"'You're not bad to talk to.'" I quoted him.

"Well, considering that's all we've been doing for the last, oh," he pulled his sleeve back to look at his battered watch. "Hour or so, I'd say that's true."

"Bucky," I said, annoyed. "Be serious. Please."

He looked a little taken back by my tone and expression. "You're _really_ asking that, aren't you?" He asked, sounding surprised. I nodded.

Bucky sighed, patting my hand, squeezing my fingers a little. "Well, you're the smartest person I know, for one thing." He started; I was wondering if I _really_ wanted to know what he was going to say. "One of the nicest. Definitely up there in looks."

"What?" I cut him off, looking at him in confusion.

He looked a tad uncomfortable. "Well, uh…You're-You're, _beautiful_…Annie." He said honestly. I blinked a few times before looking down at my shoes. We were quiet after that.

No one had ever called me beautiful before.

We kept walking and ended up in front of the saxophone player; a young guy, with a fedora at his feet filled with pennies, nickels and a couple of dimes.

"How 'bout a dance?" Bucky asked me, looking at me with that crooked half-smirk on his face.

I looked up at him. "I told you, I don't dance."

"Don't, or can't?" Bucky asked teasingly. I gave him a mildly annoyed look that just made him chuckle.

"Aw, c'mon Glow," Bucky said playfully. "Have a heart, just _one_ song."

I saw him dig in his pocket, then flip a nickel into the saxophone player's fedora. The two men shared a look and the saxophone player started to play a slower song, easier to dance to I assume.

"_Bucky_," I complained, pulling my arm from his. "I don't dance! And I have to be up early tomorrow and-_Eep_!" I cut off with a yep.

Bucky's hand wrapped around one of mine, pulling it up high as he pulled me towards him, spinning me as he did so. I let out a small squeak when I bumped into his chest lightly. His free hand caught me, lightly holding the small of my back.

Stunned, I looked up at Bucky and his blue eyes; they looked molten in the dim light in the park. He kept the half-smirk on his face, but it was softer than I've seen it, almost a true smile. He _really_ wanted to dance with me. He just held me there, not in the raunchy, inappropriate manner the man back at base did; this was gentler and comforting, one hand holding mine out, the other resting on the small of my back. My free hand was against his chest, where it ended up when he'd spun me into his arms.

"C'mon…_One dance_." Bucky asked softly, quietly. There was a surprising amount of emotion and feeling in those blue eyes that where looking down at me.

"Bucky…Can-Can you let me go?" I all but whispered, feeling overwhelmed and a little uncomfortable.

His arms dropped right away and a little of the sparkle fell out of those cerulean blue eyes. He laughed once, sticking one hand in his pocket and looking at the ground as he fixed his hat with the other hand.

I never wanted to hurt his feelings, it was the _last_ thing I wanted to do, so I looped my arm through his, like how we'd walked before. I sent him a shy smile, which he returned tenfold with a grin. He patted the hand I had sheepishly curled into the crook of his arm as he tossed another nickel in the saxophone player's fedora.

The sparkle started to flicker back into his eyes.

* * *

I _did_ have to be up early tomorrow. And after telling Bucky this, he, as any good gentleman would, offered to walk me to my hotel.

Once we got to the hotel I was staying at, I pulled my arm from Bucky's. "Sorry for stealing your evening." I apologized.

"You didn't _steal_ anything, Annie," Bucky said, smirking. "If anything, I _gave_ you my evening."

"An evening with you must be pretty valuable, then." I retorted, pulling my hands behind my back, linking them together.

"You tell me," he came back, half-stepping closer, hands lazily in his pockets as his eyes smoldered down at me from the light of the hotel overhang. I just shrugged, unable to say anything. What started as light banter just got a little more serious.

"Well…don't have much to compare it too." I said quietly, making him smirk and laugh softly.

As Bucky chuckled, I bounced up onto my toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. If I didn't do it then, I would have just lost my nerve. It was quick, I almost didn't have time to register the light scratchy-feeling that was covering his cheek and jaw. Bucky stopped laughing, his eyes were surprised and his mouth was partly open and in a half-smile, instead of a half-smirk. He seemed at a loss for words as he looked down at me, blushing and all.

"Thank you." I said quietly. "I-I needed this." I added as I reached up and straightened his hat so it wasn't tipped to one side.

He shrugged, looking at the ground. "Not a problem, Glow." I rolled my eyes and scowled at the nickname. "Aw, c'mon, none'a that." He said, brushing the outer part of my cheekbone with the back of his fingers. "Wouldn't have spent my evening any other way." He told me honestly. After he pulled his hand away from my face, he brought it up to tip his hat to the side again.

Peeking up at him through a few disheveled curls, I pulled the key out of my coin purse and headed towards the door. "Hey Glow!"

I spun around when Bucky called my name, internally cursing myself for answering to his ridiculous nickname. "Don't forget to write." He added, taking a few steps towards me.

"I won't." I said, straightening his hat. Not missing a beat, he tipped it sideways again. I almost rolled my eyes again as I turned back to the door.

* * *

It was a little while later, I was paging through my notebook, trying to figure out _why_ exactly that the formula wasn't working. I was thankful when the phone in my room rang; I was about to throw my notebook out the window and let the pigeons make a nest out of it.

After accepting the call, Peggy started talking. I 'uh-hu'-ed my way through her talking about the SSR, the lab in Brooklyn, and a little complaining about the amenities on base.

"Peggy?" I asked once she was done. "What do people do on dates?" I asked randomly.

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Didn't someone have this talk with you when you were young?" Peggy finally asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Not _that_," I groaned, blushing. "I don't have much…_experience_, in this area and I was just wondering…what, people…_do_."

"Well, the last date I went on, we walked through London, stopped at a pub, danced for a few songs. Why?" She asked.

"Uh…no reason," I lied poorly, tugging on a blonde curl that didn't stay in the bun the other were in.

"_Annie_," Peggy said knowingly.

"Well, I think I was just _on_, a date." I said, falling back to lay on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. "I'm not sure, but I think I was."

"Hang on." Peggy said. There was some muffled talking, then Peggy came back. "Tell, me, _everything_."


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry for the wait!**

**This is a little short and filler-ish, but don't worry, we'll be getting into some more action in the next few chapter...Which I'm sure would be posted a lot faster if I got some reviews. ;)**

**~Christianne**

* * *

Anna POV

I sighed, spinning a washer like a top on the table top. I _hated_ waiting.

Using my palm to smack it to the table, I stopped the washer, then started spinning it again.

Dr. Erskine wanted to update Howard on the formula, and find out how the lab was coming. So, he sent me to Brooklyn again.

I'd been waiting outside the lab for almost twenty minutes.

I spun the washer again, this time sending it across the hall.

Not having the motivation to go pick it up, I sat back in the chair I was in and started tapping my fingers nervously. Waiting made me anxious, it always has.

My mind started to wander after waiting for half an hour.

How Peggy was absolutely _appalled_ that I didn't own an article of clothing that didn't have chemical stains.

Dr. Erskine seemed to be increasingly more and more interested in what I did in my free time. I called him a nosey old man, and didn't tell him how in what free time I had I would look at my notes and files to try and get the last few stabilizing details of the serum down to test the next day in the lab.

Colonel Phillips _still_ wasn't a big fan of my work. He stopped asking me to get coffee for him, thank the lord, but still had that skeptical and slightly condescending look in his eye whenever I explained something.

I'd recently become more interested of the medical side of my current work. I'd been used one of my days off to go to the closest library and get material on several different medical related fields. Dr. Matt was very supportive and helpful. I didn't tell anyone else though. If Phillips heard about my new interest, he'd stick me in the infirmary with all the other nurses before I could say 'chemistry set.'

As my thoughts went to the infirmary back on base, I came around to the thought of Bucky. It'd been about a week since I'd seen him, and I still hadn't written him. I felt almost guilty for not writing him.

As much as I had tried to avoid Bucky on base, after spending a whole night talking with him it made me feel closer to him; like he was a good friend, not an annoyingly persistent young man who wanted to take me dancing. And he had been so…just _so_…I don't think my vocabulary contained a word that could properly articulate how kind and sweet, yet at the same time teasing and flirtatious his personality was.

A door opening made me jump up, smoothing my skirt as I did so. It was just an assistant running papers. He gave me an awkward smile as he passed.

I sat back down, huffing slightly and crossing my arms. Tapping my fingers on my forearm, my stare zeroed in on my notebook sticking out of my bag.

"Oh what the heck…" I said under my breath, taking it out and opening to a new page. I started to write another letter to Bucky. I wrote for a good 25 minutes before the doors opened.

"Annie! Sweetheart! I'm _so_ sorry to have kept you waiting for so long!" Howard said loudly as he threw both doors open, briskly strutting towards me.

"Oh, it's ok. I don't mind taking a ninety minute train ride here to sit in a hallway for forty-five more." I said offhandedly, capping my pen and putting it in the crease of my notebook as I closed it and stood.

Howard just shook his head. "Doll, one day, someone's gonna match that wit a'yours."

"Hasn't happened yet." I said with a shrug, following him into the lab.

"Oh, it will. Who knows, maybe you'll go with this someone to the bistro around the corner. I hear they have an amazing lunch menu." Howard continued, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile on his face.

I blinked a few times, then tilted my head to one side. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to pass." I said politely, setting my bag in a chair at the table the blue prints where laying on.

"Aw, you're breakin' my heart, doll." Howard said dramatically, even putting a hand over his heart, but his grin never faltered.

"Can we just get to work? Please?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable, and tugging on my blouse.

"Alright, alright, alright…" Howard said, putting his hands up in the 'unarmed' fashion as he went to his side of the table.

"Managed to weasel my way into the New York power grid, that's actually what this place is running on now. Great idea, by the way." Howard said, sending me a particularly bright grin.

"Thank you…" I said quietly, looking at the final blueprints for the chamber. "Have you started assembling it yet?" I asked.

"Yeah, just started the internal components a few hours ago. Should have the thing up and running in a few days. A week at most."

"Good…Good…Dr. Erskine told me this morning he's made a decision on who is going to be the lucky man to get into that thing." I informed him.

"Hey, who's 'Bucky'? And _why_ haven't I heard of him before?" Howard asked.

I snapped my head up, seeing Howard on the other end of the table, feet up on the table and my notebook open in his hands.

"What are you doing?" I asked, louder than normal as I quickly went to the other side of the table to grab my notebook out of his hands.

But he got up quickly and walked backwards away from me, still holding my notebook.

"'Just having someone to talk to and listen was more or less _exactly_ what I needed.'" Howard read off in a high pitched voice that I think was supposed to sound like me. "Oh, I'm _hurt_, sweetheart! You didn't tell me you had a fella all to yourself! I just made a fool of myself asking you to lunch!" He said, his voice dramatic and sarcastic as he continued to move out of my reach with my notebook.

"No! No he's not a-a _romantic_ friend!" I snapped, reaching for my notebook again.

"Who _is_ this guy anyway? Anyone I know?" He asked, ever-so-innocently.

"No, you _don't_ know him!" I snapped, stopping my pathetic chase after him and crossed my arms childishly. "Just-Just give me my notebook!" I said softer, looking up at Howard in the best way I knew how, eyebrows pulled together a little, chin tilted down and opened my brown eyes wide. It used to be how I got my older brothers to take me to the park after school…before they left, that is. I learned it was a pretty good way to get men to do the little things for me.

Howard stopped, and narrowed his eyes at me. "_Damnit_." He groaned, tossing my notebook at me. "You know, my little sister used to give me those big sad eyes." He sighed, falling into his chair. "Thought that was some lucky gift she'd gotten when she was born or something."

"Nope…" I trailed off, hugging my notebook to my chest. "Every woman has a pair'a sad eyes."

* * *

"_Guten Morgen Arzt Erskine_!" I said walking into the lab the next day. "I have the newest blueprints and notes from Howard. He told _me_, to tell _you_, that that chamber should be done soon." I said as I dropped the armful of papers and scribbled notes onto the doctors desk.

"Ah, good, good…Ze serum should be done by 'zen…" he said, lifting the test tube of milky blue liquid to the light as he swirled it around.

"I have a few ideas," I said, taking off my sweater and replacing it with a lab coat. "I'll get started on them right away." I said over my shoulder heading to my own lab station off to the side.

I did have a few ideas of what to do, but there was something I wanted to do first. I'd taken a detour to the post office on base and gotten my mail. The only relevant thing I got was a letter from Bucky, by the postmark, it was mailed the day after I walked with him at the park.

I ripped it open at my lab station and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside. Bucky's replies were usually a little shorter than my three page novels. But this one was unusually short.

_Dearest Glow, _

_Last night, I really hope I didn't overstep anything at the park. And I'm sorry if I did. But you should also know that I'm _not_ going to stop asking you until I get a dance. _

_I'm shipping out today. Must have slipped my mind to tell you in person. I hope you're not mad at me for not telling you. You needed cheering up, and I happen to know, for a fact, that you would have put up more of a fight if you didn't think so to. Maybe fight isn't the right word, but you wouldn't have had as much fun. _

_I'm really hoping you'll keep writing me over there. I also hope Steve doesn't get beat up on his way to the post office with this. _

_When I said I'm shipping out today, I meant in an hour. _

_When I get back, how about we meet up so I can show you the best bands in Brooklyn?_

_-Bucky_

I stared at the letter, shocked. The envelope fell from my hands and floated to the floor.

"Ah, so his name is _Bucky_," I heard Peggy say teasingly. She walked up next to me and put the envelope back on the counter.

"Yeah…Yes, his name is Bucky." I mumbled, distracted by his letter.

"Anna…Annie, what's wrong?" Peggy asked, her tone softer as she put a hand on my shoulder.

"He…I-I _knew_ he was in the Army. I mean, I met him here on _base_ for goodness sake…But-But I never knew…He never told me he got his orders." I said in a half-mumble. "Never knew he was going over."

"Oh…" Peggy said, her hand squeezing my shoulder a little. "Well, he's been trained. Knows what he's going. Can't be too stupid if he's already made sergeant. I think he'll be alright."

I nodded a little, folding his letter up and putting it back in the envelope again. "I-I'll mail my letter later." I told Peggy after getting a surprised look from her. I tucked the envelope in my bag, planning to put it in the small box back in my quarters with the rest of them.

He spent his last night before he went off to a warzone walking around a park with me and listening to me yammer on about my familial mess, not interrupting once.

"_Wouldn't have spent my evening any other way."_


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for the wait! **

**~_Christianne_**

**PS~ Some reviews might make the wait for the next chapter shorter. ;)**

* * *

Anna POV

It was 7 am, and I was leaving my quarters like I did every morning to go to the lab. Only instead of my usual beige or neutral ensembles, I was nervously smoothing my new green skirt. It was newer in style than the rest of my clothes, and lacked the small dotted line, and the crooked seem just below it from where I'd taken the seam out and made it longer as I grew.

After my last meeting with Howard, I'd received a trunk full of new clothes. All my size thanks to Peggy's excellent snooping skills. There was a note with it in Howard's signature scrawl; _You have to look the part doll. You have one of the best and brightest minds, so dress like one of the best and brightest_. It was his way of telling me he didn't approve of my stained blouses and snared stockings.

I fully intended on sending the trunk back, refusing to be a charity case, but sometime during the night Peggy had taken and hidden all of my clothes, leaving me with only the trunk of new ones.

The forest green skirt was the most conservative street-ware in the new wardrobe I was left with. The blouse was simple enough, no one could tell it was made from some of the finest linen available in the States. The stockings on the other hand…They had French tags.

If I didn't hate my own stockings so much I would have left them in the trunk.

"_Guten Morgen, Doktor_." I said pleasantly, smiling at Dr. Erskine as I walked past him to my station.

"_Guten Morgen, Fräulein Anina. Haben Sie gut geschlafen?_" Erskine asked, looking up from the papers he had open on his desk.

"I slept well, thank you for asking." I said offhandedly, tucking some of my curls behind my ear. I'd opted to just pull my sides back and brush it all out today. Peggy had taken most of my hairpins when she took my sweaters (my hair pins were in most of the pockets). Now, my curls were hanging down my back at their full length, hitting the bottom of my shoulder blades. "Has the mail come?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"At your station." Dr. Erskine said simply, looking at me with knowing, mischievous eyes. My nose wrinkled and my lips pursed as I tried not to smile as I skipped to my corner of the lab across from the doctor's.

It's been two weeks since Bucky had shipped off to Glasgow. He didn't tell me where, I had to bat my eyelashes a few times (I wasn't very proud of that, but Bucky wouldn't tell me, and I _wanted to know_) to get my hands on Sgt. James B. Barnes's orders. We were still sending letters back and forth. He'd started to begin each letter with 'Dearest Glow,' because I told him that I didn't like it that much and he claimed that, all the way across the ocean, he could tell I was blushing when I read it.

Bucky's letters were what you'd expect. He described a few of the guys he'd met, some new training, and some complaining about the foggy raining weather and the food. It was almost like we were each other's diaries; me more than him. He must have been getting some attention from constantly receiving the long, five and six page letters I was sending. His replies were still simple, one, maybe one and a half, pages.

In this letter he sent me a British pound coin, which I promptly put in the front pocket of my bag for safe keeping.

"I 'ave found 'ze first test sub-zect." Dr. Erskine said a few minutes later, holding up a file.

"Really?" I asked, stuffing Bucky's letter into my bag and rushing over to see the file. I read it over quickly, my eyebrows furrowing. "_Five times_? This man tried to enlist _five_ _times_?" I asked, looking up. "Why wasn't he accepted?"

"Look at 'ze next page." Dr. Erskine told me. I flipped it over and let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

"Alright, makes sense now," I sighed, reading down the list. Asthma, allergies and Hay fever, just to name a few. "But, he's a good man?" I asked, setting the file down. I'd skipped the first page with his name and information on it.

As much as believed in this project, I know I couldn't work as well if I knew the name of the man I was going to help genetically alter forever, or potentially kill. I just needed to know that he was a good man.

"_Ja. Eine der besseren_." Dr. Erskine said with a nod. (_Yes. One of better ones_.)

"Good." I said, nodding once before going back to my lab station.

* * *

Several hours later, I sat on my lab stool, one arm crossed over my chest, the other arms elbow braced on it and my chin resting on the upraised had. I squinted as I looked at the chalkboard a few feet in front of me.

"It's not right." I said out loud, tilting my head slightly to one side as the complicated chemical formula was mapped out, down to the molecules, in white, yellow and blue chalk.

"It looks fine to me." I heard Lyle, one of the Army scientists, said behind me.

"It's not _right_." I said again, only louder, so Lyle could hear me better.

"We've tested it on the blood samples, it works." He explained slowly, almost condescending. He didn't have that much faith in me, because he was constantly looking over my shoulder and making comments about the quality of my work. He was the one I told Bucky to feel free to punch.

"Only 89% of the time." I added, not taking my eyes off the board.

"Yes, 89%. The Colonel said we had to get it above 85% before testing could be considered, and it _is_, so it _works_." Lyle said, his voice getting sharper, he was a bit of a hothead. Dr. Erskine had sent him out of the lab on several occasions due to it. I asked why he was still around if _nobody_ liked to work with him (which no one did). The doctor said that he was quite brilliant, when he wasn't being such a _miststück_. I had to look that one up; I flushed and shut my German/English dictionary quickly after I read it.

"Yes," I said, my voice getting sharper. "Which leaves an 11% margin for error. An 11% chance that every cell in a man's body will grow and expand at such an-an _unstoppable_ rate that he will spontaneously combust in a matter of seconds." I spun around on my stool to look at Lyle. "_I_ won't be happy until that margin for error is 1% or lower." I added.

"Then we may as well just ask Hitler to give us the keys to his tanks." He snapped, irritated.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just value human life more than you do." I said before gathering my things into my bag and leaving the lab, holding my sweater in my arm rather than taking the time to take my lab coat off and put it on. I heard Lyle scoff behind me, but I didn't turn around.

* * *

_Dear Bucky,_

_I'd say I hope you're having a better day than I am, but since you're in a warzone that might not be the case. This project I'm working on (No, I still can't tell you about it) is getting more difficult, both mentally and emotionally. Sometimes I think college was easier, even with the condescending professors and the boys that would ask me to sew buttons back on their shirts. _

_You know, the higher-ups here keep telling the doctor and I that what we're doing will save soldiers' lives, the lives of innocent civilians…But at the same time what we're doing has a margin of error that's too big for me to comprehend. I can't wrap my head around how 11 people dying is an acceptable price to pay for 89 weapons. I know this might not make sense, because you don't know what I'm talking about, but I don't have anyone else to talk to. _

_If I told anyone else these things, they'd have to report it to the doctor, and he'd have to report it to Phillips, who'd use it as the excuse he's been looking for to get me off the base, and get one of those soulless Harvard graduate men looking to get out of the draft in my place. _

_It just baffles me that someone could think of just one person dying is an 'acceptable' loss, when _clearly-

"Anna?"

I put my pen down and looked up to see the last person I'd _ever_ expect to see on an Army base.

"Steve?" I asked, looking wide eyed at the small blonde man in the same kelly green training uniforms the other recruits had, only they looked about three sizes too big for him. "Uh, hi." I said, closing my notebook and putting it back in my bag, pulling my food closer to me and gestured for Steve to sit across from me. I'd chosen a small table at the very back of the mess hall, away from the rowdy men.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you—I am—but what are you doing here?" I asked, remembering how Bucky had told me he tried to enlist but was labeled 4F; unfit for duty.

"I joined the Army." He said simply, like it was an obvious answer. He had this little smile on his face that he was trying to hide.

"…Ok…" I trailed off, shaking my head as I picked my fork up and spinning it in my lumpy mashed potatoes. "I guess I won't ask." I decided after I took a bite.

"Might be better if you don't." Steve said before taking a bite of his own food. I can't be too much more specific than 'food,' that's why I don't usually look at what I'm eating.

"When did you get here?" I asked.

"Three days ago." Steve said, nodding a little. "It's about time, too. Took me five tries to get here."

"F-_Five_ tries?" I asked, dropping my fork and leaning forward a little.

"M-hm." Steve said, nodding, mouth full.

Steve. Sweet, bashful, _Steve_ was Erskine's choice. And right now, there was an 11% chance that I was going to help blow this poor man up. I couldn't do that! And _Bucky_—I didn't even want to think about what Bucky would do if he found out I blew up his best friend!

I stuffed the rest of my things into my bag. "Stop by the lab later, we'll catch up. I have to go." I said quickly, standing up and pulling my bag over my shoulder.

I was about to pick up my tray, but Steve waved my hands away. "I can get it for you." He assured me. I sent him a look, but he just rolled his eyes a little. "_I'll get it_." He said again. I sent him a smile then rushed out of the mess hall.

Once I got back into the lab, I threw my bag at my desk and grabbed an unused chalkboard that was standing against the wall, bringing it with me to my station. Putting it next to the one with the formula already on it, I grabbed a new piece of chalk and set to work drawing a bare bones of the formula on the new board.

"Dr. Matt! Can you get me those books you were showing me yesterday?" I called, still drawing on the blackboard. The only indication he heard me was a 'Yes ma'am' I heard behind me.

"Back again?" I heard Lyle say.

"Yup." I said, not looking over my shoulder at him. "And I'm gonna be in here, working on that 1% margin for error until I get it. You _can_ help me." I allowed.

"But if you're _not_ gonna help…" I trailed off, stepped back and mustered up all the confidence I had before looking at him. "_Shut up, _and_ stay out _of_ my way_."


	14. Chapter 14

**Prepare yourselves, this note is a long one. **

**First, I have a long list of people to thank; KurisutauAi, Marzipan, Unihorn, Ella, Sarah, Bekahleck, Jo, Lady Syndra, Izzagee and Simone98. You are just the ones who reviewed the last chapter, but I want to EVERYONE who has ever reviewed this story. I've been going through a few stressful, difficult things, and reading how much you love and support my story is kinda like getting a hug. Keep it up!**

**Also, I'm going to post a challenge to all of you. I have a little side project going on, I'm making a website for my stories, you know, one of those fill in the box template things, to post stuff I get my inspiration from, what my OCs look like, stuff like that. My challenge to you, issued on September 22, 2014, is this; if you have an idea of what Anna looks like. I have an idea, but I love feedback and making you guys think, so if you have an image of what you think Anna would look like, either leave me a review or a PM, and I'll PM you my email so you can send it to me (I don't know, can you send image/image links through privet messaging here?). You have until Halloween to send me a pic. Also, just to get you guys motivated, anyone who just GIVES ME AN IMAGE, will be given the next TWO CHAPTERS of this story, ahead of time, before anyone else. **

**Don't feel obligated to that, though. This is just so I can see how you guys think Anna would look like, 'cause, you know, I probably wouldn't have written this much if I didn't know I had people who thought it was worth reading. **

**Ok then, almost done with this note. **

**Enjoy the chapter, and leave a review!**

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Anna POV

I sighed as I walked into the infirmary building. I didn't stop until I was at the foot of a bed, where a blond man was sitting, his face pinched up in pain from the needle currently in his arm that wasn't holding a mask to his face.

"You know, Bucky's told me several times about how you have too much stupid for a guy your size. I didn't really believe it until now." I said, crossing my arms.

Steve's blue eyes slid over to me and narrowed a little. He was still in his dirt smeared training outfit, and had a few dark smudges over his sweaty face.

"Oh don't look at me like that." I said, moving to sit on the cot next to Steve's at the doctor walked away. "You know I'm right." His gaze didn't change.

Steve had asthma, pretty severe asthma. Before training, he was supposed to come to the infirmary to get an injection of epinephrine and aminophylline, along with several other drugs to help his respiratory and nervous system when he ran and exercised. I'd started to come up with the formula when I first found out Steve was here. Dr. Matt consulted with me often on it, and was very proud of me. With it, Steve didn't have to worry about having trouble breathing when he ran or exercised for a good two hours. Accept when he _didn't take it_.

"I was doin' fine the last few days." Steve muttered from under his mask, giving him direct oxygen.

"Yes, you were, because you were _getting your shot before you went out_." I chided him, making him roll his eyes.

"You sound like Bucky." He told me.

"No…No, I think Bucky would say something more along the lines of 'How can _so much stupid_ fit into such a _small_ _guy_?'" I said after a moment. Steve chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah he probably would." He admitted. "How's he doin'?"

Steve knew I was writing Bucky once or twice a week. He'd asked me not to tell him that he was here, training. I didn't ask why, I figured that there was, right now, a 5.972% chance that he was going to combust on the procedure date, so I owed him something.

"Fine, as good as he can be, I guess." I told him, frowning a little.

"You know, you're real special to him." Steve said a moment later.

I laughed once. "You think so?" I asked. I couldn't deny that I had feelings for Bucky, but I also got the feeling that one didn't get that charming and suave naturally; I have no doubt that he had a trail of old sweethearts a mile long.

"Yeah, I mean, before he went off for training, he'd been trying to get a date with Nancy Fredrick for _weeks_. I ditched them to…try to enlist again…So he was gonna go have a night on the town with Nancy and her friend. The Bucky I know would _never_ turn that down." Steve said, chuckling once. I gave a small smile, and looked down at the floor. Bucky was right, Steve really had no idea how to talk to a woman.

"He dropped them both like 'a hot potato when he found out you were there." Steve added. I snapped my head up in shock.

"Really?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," Steve nodded quickly. "Shared a cab later that night, wouldn't shut up 'bout you."

I felt my cheeks blush, and I looked down. Now I really thought there was something special about him. He could have spent his last night of leave with two beautiful (if Bucky had been after them, they had to be pretty) girls in the most exciting city in the world, instead, he walked around a park with me.

I shook my head briefly, then picked up the brown envelope I'd set next to me. "Almost forgot…" I trailed off, ripping it open. "I modified the normal injection you get." I told him. "In case you decide to act all tough again." I scolded him again.

Steve, again, rolled his eyes and dropped the mask in his lap. He rolled up his sleeve again, and I picked up a sterile syringe off a tray and stuck the sharp end into the vile, filling it up.

"Is this gonna hurt?" Steve asked as I double checked the amount in the syringe. I knew what he meant; with the other fomula I'd come up with, the liquid actually going into his arm and through his veins hurt more than the stick with the needle.

I shrugged. "More than a paper cut, less than a broken nose." I said vaguely, taking hold of his arm before sticking it with the needle (just like Dr. Matt taught me).

* * *

**Outside the infirmary**

Officers were talking with one another, discussing various topics. Cadets were wandering around in their free time, talking about their families and girls they had back home.

"_**OW!**_"

The loud, clearly painful sound made them all stop and stare at the infirmary, wondering what could possibly be happening to the poor guy in there.

* * *

I nervously chewed my thumbnail as I stood behind Howard as he tinkered with a dial.

"Will you stop?" Howard finally asked, grabbing my hand away from my mouth with one of his gloved hands. "You're making _me_ nervous."

I frowned and tucked my hand under my other arm crossed over my chest, hugging my notebook to my chest.

"Sorry. A bit antsy…I haven't slept in three days and have had six cups of coffee today." I said quietly, my foot, clad in a new pair of shoes (Thank you Howard), starting to tap nervously on the floor.

"Well, why don't you just go up to the viewing room and have a cup of tea of something." Howard said, standing up straight from the dial he was working on.

I shook my head. "In less than an hour, history is gonna be made right _there_." I paused to point at the platform where the chamber was. "And I have the opportunity to be right up next to it. I'm not gonna miss out on that 'caues I haven't slept in 72 hours." Howard rolled his eyes and gave my arm a gentle shove.

Howard wasn't really as bad as his reputation painted him to be. He had his _dumm fuhrt_ moments, but he was a nice, standup guy. He'd told me a time or two that he reminded me of his sister; which probably explained his worrying and brotherly teasing (not to mention the trunk of clothes). And in all honesty, he was nicer than most my flesh and blood brothers.

"Yeah, can't say I blame you." Howard sighed. "Try and relax." He told me again. "Why don't you write that GI Sweetheart." He added with a teasing grin. I saw Dr. Matt chuckle as he was looking at his clipboard, shaking his head slightly.

"He isn't my _sweetheart_." I muttered, opening my notebook to a new page and taking my pencil from where I'd stuck it in my bun and started another letter to Bucky. He'd been overseas for close to a year; almost ten months. We'd written each other back and forth for the first nine, but in the last two months his replies stopped coming. I didn't mind; being in the trenches got him a pass for a few weeks of missing replies.

"Really? So, that mean's I _can_ use him as target practice for not writing you back?" Howard said teasingly. I looked up from my notebook and sent Howard an annoyed look. When he shrugged innocently, I put my pencil between my teeth and used my free hand to smack his shoulder.

"Hi Anna, Stark." I heard Steve say. I spun on my heel and smiled as best I could with a pencil in my teeth. I took it out and gave a better, supportive smile.

"Hi," I said. "How do you feel?" I asked, walking up onto the platform.

Steve shrugged his small shoulders. "A little nervous, I guess." He admitted.

"A _little_ nervous?" I repeated his words, chuckling a little. "If I were you, I'd be more than a _little_ nervous."

"You know, you're not making me feel any better." He told me, shaking his head a little.

"You don't have anything to worry about." I said, trying to sound assuring. "I did all the calculations and equations myself. There's a _less_ than 1% margin for error." I'm not that sad to admit that a little pride was in my voice. Steve nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Miss Brightman! Would you please come and look these over?" I heard one of the lab technicians' call.

"Just a second!" I called back. I looked back at Steve and gave him another reassuring smile. I put a hand on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze before dashing off to the technicians.

"That was all we could synthesize." One said, holding the clip board tightly. I nodded, a little disappointed as I looked at the eight vials in the container.

"We could have a whole damn _vat_ of this stuff, you know?" I heard Lyle's cynical voice say from behind me.

"Yes. And only 89% of those men injected would live to see another day." I said calmly, then began to effectively ignore the man.

"Do you have the toxicity levels?" I asked, holding my hand out as I carefully lifted one of the clear vials of blue liquid out of the container. I briefly inspected the silver cap on the end, where it would be placed into the components of the chamber. I placed the vial back when I felt a clipboard placed in my hand.

I flipped through the papers quickly and nodded. "Good, very good." I said, handing the clip board back. "These are _perfect_." I said confidently.

"_Perfect_…Not a word scientists like to use." Lyle grumbled.

"These have less than .4% impurities." I said, closing the container. "That's as close to perfect as science can get." I added before going to back to stand by Howard.

"I _don't_ like that man!" I hissed under my breath, a frown on my face as I stood by Howard.

"Who?" Howard asked, chucking off his gloves.

"_Lyle_." I said his name like a swear word, a frown on my face.

"Lyle? Lyle who?" Howard asked, his face contorting into a thoughtful one, trying to match the name to a face at my guess.

"He's a-_a herablassenden Ruck, die keinen Respekt für das, was ich tun kann, hat_." I said, a little louder, in near fluent German. "_Das sexistischen Schwein kennt kaum ein Reagenzglas aus seiner-_"

"_Fräulein_, I did not teach you German so you could use it like '_zat_." Dr. Erskine said, after asking Steve to take his shirt and hat off. I pouted a little, looking down at my shoes.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the viewing room, Agent Carter?" I heard Colonel Phillips asked. The British woman hesitated, then nodded. She sent me a slightly jealous look as she walked up to the viewing room above the lab where all the, as Howard called them, 'hoity-toity', men sat to watch the procedure.

I barely heard what Dr. Erskine was saying over in the microphone. I was so focused on the nurses as they wheeled the large container up to the platform, each taking three vials and putting them in the slots. I flinched as they clicked into place. This _had_ to work. It was _going_ to work. _Please God let it work._

"Hey, Annie." Howard said, gently nudging my arm. "Quit'yer flinching. I looked over those chemical formulas of yours. I had some of the _best scientists in the country_ look at your chemical formulas. He's _not_ gonna blow up." He said honestly, pulling his gloves back on, readying himself to turn the wheel that would fill the chamber with Vita-rays.

The chamber closed around Steve, and on his que, Howard started turning the wheel, yelling out the percentage as he did.

A loud, painful sounding yell came from the chamber. I dropped my notebook as I ran up to the chamber. Everyone was yelling. I could barely hear myself think as I tried to remember where Howard put the manual release on this thing.

"No!" Steve yelled from inside of the chamber. "No! _I can do this_!" The yelling stopped, and I stopped looking for the manual release. I looked back at Howard and nodded, telling him to turn the wheel all the way to 100%. I slowly backed off the platform to stand next to Dr. Matt.

The lights flickered, then the lab went near silent. The chamber opened with a hiss.

"_Lordy_…" I breathed, eyes wide as a tall, well-muscled (that being an _extreme_ understatement) man with blonde hair stumble out of the chamber.

I pushed my way through the people on the platform, grinning as I got to Steve and Dr. Erskine.

"Sehen? Ich sagte Ihnen, immer und immer würden Sie mich nicht, oder Steven, nach unten." Dr. Erskine said, putting his arm around me in a one-armed-hug, and pinched my cheek lightly. (_See? I told you over and over, you would not let me, or Steven, down_.)

I smiled proudly and threw my arms around the doctor's middle and hugged him tightly. Of all the people to have faith in what I could do, I was glad it was him. He chuckled and pressed a fatherly kiss to my forehead.

A deafening bang made me jump and louse my footing and I stumbled back into the rail around the platform.

Everyone was yelling again. Another bang echoed through the lab. And another. Another.

I let out a scream as I saw Dr. Erskine fall to the ground, a bloody circle growing on his chest. Steve bent over him. I tried to get to him, my mind hazy and swirling with all the medical knowledge I had.

"Anna!" I heard Howard say loudly, squatting down next to me. Wasn't I standing up? "Hey! C'mon doll, you ok?" he asked, taking my shoulders in his hands and shaking me slightly. The motion made me gasp hard and fast, so hard and fast that it caught in my throat and turned into a sob. Howard let my shoulders quickly, but I kept sobbing.

"Shit…Shit shit _shit_." Howard hissed, moving to kneel at my side.

"Hey! Need a doctor over here!" he yelled over his shoulder. A sharp pain on my shoulder made me whimper. I looked at the shoulder that hurt. Howard had his palms pressed to my shoulder, one on the front, the other on the back, his fingers linked over my small shoulder so he could squeeze tightly. There was blood. A lot of blood. _My_ blood.

My vision started to blur and things got hazier in my mind. "It hurts." I whimpered.

"Yeah, yeah I know it does doll face, but-hey, _hey_ you gotta stay awake. Stay awake with me sweetheart." Howard said, increasingly louder as he spoke. I could feel unconscious sweeping over me, from blood loss most likely.

"C'mon sweetheart, gotta stay awake for me!" Howard said, taking a hand off my shoulder to grab my chin. "Keep those doe eyes open, you hear me?" he looked over his shoulder at the hazy chaos I saw. "We need a _doctor_ over here!" he yelled again. I could see all the medical staff, including Dr. Matt, leaning over Dr. Erskine's unmoving body. I whimpered, and my eyelids started to flutter as a wave of pain crashed over me.

"No no no, none'a that," Howard said sharply, swallowing thickly as he put more pressure on my bleeding shoulder. "C'mon, stay with me doll, stay with me. Gonna get you all fixed up, alright? Gotta keep you pretty for that fella you got over there. C'mon, stay awake for _him_ now, 'kay sweetheart? Stay awake for your boy. Ah, shit…What was his name?" Howard paused, taking away one of his hands to wipe sweat off his face as he thought. I saw a red smear follow his hand before it went back to my shoulder.

_Where were the doctors?_

"B-Bucky." I breathed shakily, my eyelids growing heavy. "H-His n-na-n-name is-" I had to stop to whimper as Howard's grip loosened. "Bucky…" I finished, making Howard nod quickly.

"Right, Bucky, right. Stay with me, for Bucky, alright?" He pleaded, moving his head to look into my half-closed eyes. "_C'mon_ Anna! Don't you _dare_ shut your eyes!" Howard said, trying to sound like his normal demanding self, but it came out a bit desperate and begging.

"…Ok…" I sighed, one side of my mouth twitching up the slightest as I thought about Bucky.

His beautiful, perpetually sparkling, crystal blue eyes and how they seemed to shine when he looked at me.

How he referred to me as 'his Glow,' not matter how many times I told him I wasn't 'his,' Glow or otherwise.

How he'd reach up to run a hand through his hair, even though the dark brown locks were rarely out of place.

He spent his last day before he was shipped off walking with me around a park, letting me talk about my horrendous, sad excuse of a family.

But most of all, he called me _beautiful_. No one's ever called me beautiful. When I used to get all dressed up for a chours performance at school, Billy would always muss my curls and tell me I was 'pretty good lookin.' Before that, my mother, after managing to control my curls, used to say I was 'pretty as a princess.' But in my 23 years, only Bucky Barnes has called me _beautiful_.

My mind was swirling lazily with all the memories I had of Bucky, and my eyes were slowly starting to get harder and harder to keep open. Howard's yelled words where getting harder and harder to hear too.

I heard Howard yell 'We need a _damn_ _doctor_ over here!' before I fainted. His voice cracked on 'damn'.


	15. Chapter 15

**Well, this is a little on the short side. Sorry. On the bright side, I have pretty much completed the website I was making for this page. It's a bit rough, but not that bad, considering the small amount of time I have to work on it. The link is on my bio, so take a look! A word of warning, it comes up all messed up and wonky when you look at it on a phone. It's fine, I guess, but I'm a perfectionist.**

**~Christianne**

**PS~ Still accepting faceclaims! **

* * *

Anna POV

I woke up in a hospital. I was groggy and sleepy, but set on getting out of the hospital. I hated hospitals, and Howard and Peggy knew than _very_ _well_ in the span of only a few minutes.

When I was finally released from the hospital, and asked how I was getting back to my quarters at the base in New Jersey, Howard told me, flat out, that he'd booked me a room at ThePlaza—_The_ _Plaza_, and over his dead body he was going to let me sleep anywhere else. I'd told him it was too extravagant, and that I was uncomfortable accepting it.

I'd gotten a little peak at _Howard_ instead of _Howard Stark_.

* * *

"C'mon doll, I'll drive you." Howard said, putting a hand on my uninjured shoulder as he led me out of the hospital room I'd been given. He stopped and threw his jacket over my shoulders before we walked out of the building into the car; I only had on my thin, bloody blouse.

I sat uncomfortably next to him in his town car, picking at the dried blood under my finger nails and trying to keep it off Howard's long coat.

"I had a sister, you know." He said randomly, looking out the window of the car.

"You told me." I mumbled.

"I _had_ a sister." Howard repeated, not looking at me. I looked up at him, my brows knit in confusion.

"Couple years younger than me." He continued. "Big puppy-dog sad eyes, smart as a whip and the sweetest damn thing God ever made.

"I went off to MIT when I was 16. She-uh, she got sick not long after that. I'd rip out pages of my textbooks and send them to Elisa, my sister, so she had something to do." He looked intently out the window at the quickly passing Brooklyn streets. "She…She got bad, real sudden. I was on a train when I got a call…My ma' was crying on the phone."

"Oh…Howard…" I said softly, my heart swelling with empathy for the man next to me.

"She'd be your age." Howard said, taking a sharp, deep breath and straightening up a little. "You're 23, right?" he asked. I nodded.

"I know it doesn't _really_ make sense," He said awkwardly. "But I watched out for Elisa when she needed me to, and, you _don't_ have anyone to watch out for you, and you need it." I just nodded.

"I've never been to the Plaza." I said a few minutes later.

"I think you'll like it." Howard said, his face having that smug grin back.

* * *

A day and a half later, Peggy and I went to the SSR base in Manhattan.

"Hi Steve." I said politely, walking over to him and leaving Peggy to talk with Colonel Phillips.

"Anna, hi." He said, sounding distracted. "How's the shoulder?" he asked me, looking at the arm in the white sling my left arm was in.

I shrugged my good shoudler. "Not bad. I'm actually on so many pain killers right now I'm only about 80% sure I'm _actually_ talking to you right now." I said with a wry smile. Getting that I was joking, Steve smile a little and chuckled.

"Ah, there you are." The Colonel said, walking up to me with a small folder in his hands. "_Dr_. Brightman." He added, holding the folder out to me.

I looked at him, wide eyed, as I slowly took it from him.

There, in the black leather folder, was a doctorate from Colombia University, with_ my name on it. _

"_Oh_…Wow…" I breathed, still wide eyed at my degree.

"Congratulations, you earned it." He said gruffly. "And I'm here to inform you that your services for the SSR are no longer required, and, there for, your security clearance for this agency is to be terminated at 4 o'clock today after Agent Carter has debriefed you."

"Wh-_What_?" I asked, my voice shocked, and mildly insulted.

"You were brought into the SSR to help Dr. Erskine with the serum. With the doctor's passing, your services are no longer required." Colonel Phillips said in the same gruff tone he always had with me. He turned and walked away.

Thoroughly insulted now, I smacked my degree into Steve's chest, he quickly grabbed it so it wouldn't fall, then I followed the colonel. "You want more serum, don't you? _I'm_ the only one who can give that to you!"

"We have the best scientists' available working on replicating the formula." The Colonel informed me.

"Obviously not _all_ of them, because _I'm_ not working on it!" I said, following him further, to where Howard was working on the submarine-like-craft the HYDRA agent Steve chased had left behind.

"Don't think that just because you've got a new, fancy degree, I'm gonna let you in on a top secret assignment." He told me incredulously.

"I was already _in _on this top secret assignment!" I told him, practically yelling.

"I want to hear _one_ good reason why you are not allowing me to work on this project." I demanded. I wasn't exactly sure where all of this confidence and volume came from, but I think it had a little something to do with vengeance; I wanted HYRDA on its knees for killing Dr. Erskine. I knew I would be in a lab, not on the front lines like the men _actually_ out on the front lines, but I couldn't just sit back with my new degree and wait to hear what happened by the radio. I just _couldn't_.

And maybe it had a little to do with what Bucky said in his last letter; _I know you have smart, important things to say. If they don't, _make_ them listen. _Yell_, Glow, you seem like the type of girl that could really scream if need be._

The colonel sent me a sharp look. I thought he was going to yell at me, but then he just turned and walked away.

"I'm sorry, Anna." I heard Steve say behind me. I looked up at him, nodding a little. "He's not letting me do anything either, if-if that makes you feel any better." He added, handing me my diploma back.

_That_ really made me feel bad.

All the work. The sleepless nights, the headaches from the thinking alone, tolerating the condescending men all the time, and it was all for nothing if the _one_ man who this all benefited wasn't even allowed to do was he was meant to do.

One of the men in suits pulled Steve off to the side, leaving me holding my diploma at my side.

I wandered over to where Howard was working on the HYDRA submarine. "Hey there doll, how's the arm?" Howard said from his place in the single seat of the sub. He had a pair of wire cutters in his hand and a fist full of scribbled notes in the other.

"Fine." I sighed. "Uh, just thought I'd come and say good bye." I said, looking up from my shoes.

"Good bye?" Howard repeated, a confused expression on his face.

"I'm gonna be debriefed and sent home today." I explained. "I guess, since the doctor's gone, Phillips is cleaning house."

"Uh-uh, nope, sorry, I can't allow that." Howard said, getting up out of the submarine. "_You_, Annie, are not going _anywhere_."

"O…._K_…" I said slowly, confused.

"Annabelle Brightman, Stark Industries is _officially_ offering you position." Howard said, jumping out of the submarine with a grin.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ah! Another chapter! **

**I've had a few people mention to me that I haven't had much Bucky in the last few chapters. Well, *minor spoiler* the next chapter is all about what has been going on with Bucky all this time. And, because this chapter is a little short, I'll be posting the next chapter a few minutes after this one. **

**So, go ahead, tell me you love me. ;) I kid...I kid...But it wouldn't hurt. **

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Anna POV

"Is it bad that I'm _excited_?" I asked Howard as we got into the back of the truck.

He chuckled. "Well, _I am_." He reasoned, shrugging a little. Peggy just rolled her eyes at us and shook her head.

I bit the inside of my lip so I wouldn't start giggling in anticipation.

Since Howard had hired me, I was attempting to replicate the formula (the HYDRA agent that shot me stole the last two vials and _my notebook_). I'd also kept writing Bucky. I think I was up to 15 letters without a response. But I kept writing. I used some of Howard's contacts and found out where the 107th was; it was a stroke of luck and the work of God when they were where we were going.

I might actually dance with him when he asks me this time. Maybe.

* * *

I peeked over my shoulder and went into the tent. The sound of typewriter keys was loud and a little distracting.

"Oh…Oh don't be true…" I muttered, slipping through the mess of secretaries to the filing cabinets in the back of the tent. "Please oh _please_…" I said as I opened the drawer labeled _A-Ba_. I quickly sifted through the files, biting my lower lip so hard I thought I was going to break skin.

After hearing that only 50 out of 175 or so men from the 107th made it back from the raid, I had to know if Bucky was one of the missing or one of the safe. The camp was a bit too big for me to ask around, so I was going on a little adventure.

_Barnes, James B._

I pulled the file out and a little whimper as I saw _MIA _stamped on it.

Howard and I had been in a tent with some of the damaged weapons he'd created for the Army. He was seeing what the damage was, and how to prevent it, while I sat off to the side working on the formula in my (new) notebook and giving my opinion now and then.

My hands were shaking a little as I put the file back and rushed out of the tent into the rain.

I pulled the hood of my coat up over my head and tried to remember my way back to the tent Howard was set up in. I was looking at my feet, and I crashed into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry-_Anna_!" I looked up when I heard a familiar voice above me. I held my hood up so I could see and smiled a little as I saw Steve.

"Hi Steve." I said weakly, looking up at the tall blonde currently wearing his red, white and blue outfit and a long coat. "I was just looking for you actually." It wasn't exactly the truth, but not a lie either. I was just trying to get my mind off the MIA file. I was planning on finding Steve later, catching up.

"Yeah, uh, listen, Anna, I really wanna catch up but I gotta go talk to Phillips." Steve said, rushing off to one of the tents. I saw Peggy trailing after him, and swallowed thickly.

I made my way back to the tent where Peggy and I were sleeping. I sat on my bed, sniffling and ringing my hair out onto the floor. I didn't want to deal with this now, I couldn't deal with this now.

I hadn't heard from Bucky in months, but I didn't care, I really didn't. My life wasn't exactly normal or happy, so just knowing that a fantastic man like that was out in the world and wanted to keep in contact with me was enough light to keep me happy. If I never spoke to him again I could go on like normal, devastated, but normal, but knowing he was either dead or a POW in a cell somewhere was almost too much for my head to handle.

I noticed something on the lumpy pillow. I, in a very unladylike moment, wiped my nose on the back of my coat sleeve and reached for the bundle on my pillow. There was a crisp white note tucked under the twine holding them all together. I pulled it out and saw Howard's familiar writing; _I'm so sorry, Annie_.

I tossed the note aside and started sniffling again, sucking in a few tears as I looked at 17 letters I'd sent Bucky over the past few months. All of them worn and stamped over and over with 'Unit moved to' stamps in different colors.

_He never got them._

Now I was upset for two reasons. One; because he wasn't _here_, and two; because where ever he was he thought I stopped writing to him.

* * *

I groaned and rolled over when I heard movement on Peggy's side of the tent. I stifled a yawn and sat up. "Peggy?" I asked sleepily, frowning a little when I saw her pulling on her jacket.

"Just me Annie, go back to sleep." She said in a tone that reminded me of how a mother would talk to a child. I didn't like it. I got that parental-tone a lot, just 'cause I was only 23, almost 24.

"No, no what's going on?" I insisted on knowing, straightening my wrinkled dress (I hadn't bothered to change) as I sat up.

She hesitated, then just shook her head. "I'll explain later, just go back to sleep now." Peggy insisted.

"Peggy, you're scaring me a little." I said honestly. Peggy was always calm and together, now, she looked like she was near a manic state of mind.

"Steve is going to the HYDRA camp." She blurted out.

"_What_?" I yelped as I jumped up. "How?" I asked, fumbling around to get up and out of my blankets. "_Why_?"

"His best friend is there." Peggy said simply. I hope she didn't see how I froze for a moment when Bucky was mentioned. "Howard is going to fly us in his plane." Peggy added, looking through some files in a file, she stopped once she pulled out a map.

"I'm going with." I announced, jumping behind the dressing screen on my side of the tent and grabbed a pair of trousers from my trunk. "And, if you say _no_." I continued, pulling my dress over my head and tugging on a slightly wrinkled blouse. "I'll tell Phillips." I threatened, peeking around the screen.

"You wouldn't dare." Peggy said, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Over the last month, I've been translating and decoding the notes of a _slightly_ paranoid German scientist. I've been writing to a man who hasn't even been getting my letters. I almost punched someone in the throat two days ago, and I can barely step outside this God-forsaken tent without having a Neanderthal wanting to inspect my stockings." I said sharply, pulling on my coat and boots. "If I have a chance to get out of here, and _save_ people, _I_, _am_, _going_."

Peggy was thoroughly stunned at my little speech and nodded slowly. "C'mon then." She said after a moment. I smirked at her walked out of our tent.

"Anna? What are you doing here?" Steve asked, seeing me walk up behind Peggy towards the plane.

"What's it look like? I'm coming with you." I told him, a smile on my face. I tried to make it confident and playful, but it came off a little nervous.

"Well, we better hurry. _Technically_, we aren't allowed to take this plane." Howard said from the cockpit.

"I thought this was your plane." Steve said, sounding a little apprehensive.

"Well, technically." Howard reasoned, shrugging a little. "_I_ designed it, _I_ built it…Yeah, the Army _owns_ it, but it's still _my_ _plane_."

My eyes widened and I quickly buckled the harness around me as I sat in one of the seats.

I wasn't real keen on flying anyway. This didn't help.


	17. Chapter 17

**As promised, the second chapter of the day! **

**Also, I don't have any way to actually watch The First Avenger, so, don't be too harsh if I got any information wrong. **

**~Christianne**

* * *

Omniscient POV

**Five Months Ago**

**Northern Italy; HYDRA factory**

Bucky had his jaw clenched as he glared at the floor, his hands linked behind his head as he walked.

Being shot at, doing the shooting, finding somewhere to sleep in trenches, finding time and paper to write to Glow; those were his worries for a long time. _Those_ were worries he could wrap his head around.

Now, walking in a line with his hands up and guns pointed at his head, he didn't know what to do. He'd already panicked (puked in a ditch) and retaliated (hit a guard in the gut will all his strength, and was pretty sure he was sporting a few broken ribs as well as a black eye), and now he was just trying to figure out how to _live_.

"Halt!" A German accented voice yelled (it came out more like_ 'alt!_). The line of 100 or so men stopped.

The man was tall and thin, wearing a long black leather duster. There was a shorter man next to him; balding, round glasses, and clutching a folder to his chest.

"You 'vill surrender all 'veapons and possessions to 'ze men 'vit bags." The black coat guy yelled again. "Anyone who fails to do so…" he trailed off and glanced at one of the masked soldiers (all these guys looked like they were ready for a gas attack or something).

The soldier raised his gun and aimed it in Bucky's direction. The man five to his left disappeared with a scream and a burst of blue. Bucky's eyes widened in fear. His jaw clenched tighter and he swallowed thickly.

Bobby Harrington. That man's name was _Robert Harrington_. He was from Connecticut. He had a wife back home. Just last month he got a letter with a picture of his new baby girl. Named her Helen, after his mom; she died last year; cancer. She was the cutest damn thing and she was never gonna know her daddy.

A masked man with a large sack was walking down the line of men, stopping in front of each one.

Each time Bucky breathed, his chest pressed against the folded letters in the inside pocket of his jacket. Not about to let these Nazi sons-a-bitchs take the letters from his Glow, he tried to think of a plan. The sack-man was about 20 men away from Bucky.

Trying to mimic how Steve sounded in the fall, Bucky let out a deep cough that started in his chest. He moved his hands from behind his head to grasp the shoulder of the man next to him, while the other pressed against his chest like he was trying to stop the pain. Still letting out rattly, wet sounding coughs, Bucky grabbed the bundle of letters and shoved them into the waist band of his pants. Letting out one more cough, he shoved his scratchy sweater over them and shook his head slightly.

"You ok there pal?" The man Bucky had leaned on hissed out the corner of his mouth.

"Never better." Bucky breathed, putting his hands back behind his head.

A man behind him yanked the jacket off Bucky's shoulders roughly.

"Sure, make sure the guy with the cold dies faster." Bucky muttered darkly. The masked soldier snapped something harsh in German.

The man with the sack stopped in front of Bucky. He let out an exasperated sigh and felt around his pockets. A few bullets that hadn't made it into the mag of his rifle, the button that had fallen off the sweater he was wearing, and a few other random items.

"Oh, almost forgot." Bucky added, bending down to get the item clipped to his boot. He held up the knife (briefly considering stabbing the guy) then dropped it in the sack with a blank face, jaw clenched and a defiant look in his eye.

* * *

Bucky was sitting on the floor of the small, round cells he and the rest of the men were stuck in like animals at a zoo.

It must have been the middle of the night, because there weren't any guards walking around. After looking over his shoulder a few times, Bucky put a hand under his sweater and felt through the letters still stuck in his waist band. Feeling a stiffer paper in the bunch, he pulled it out.

A few months ago, when the guys in his unit were really getting on Bucky about this girl he _claimed_ to know, _claimed_ to have waiting back stateside; one guy said he was making her up, that me must have been writing his mom or something.

Bucky, determined to prove that he was as good as he claimed, made the bold request to have Anna send him a picture of herself. He made it clear that it was to prove a point and nothing else, and, low and behold, a few weeks later a single picture of Anna Brightman was in his letter.

It was clearly taken by someone else, and clearly by surprise. Her eye were wide as they looked at the camera and she was leaning over a table covered in files and papers, one arm resting on the table, the other up in the air holding a pen. Her note book was open in front of her, and her hair was louse and falling over her shoulders in those delicate corkscrew curls. Her pink lips were a few shades darker than her ivory skin in the photograph and had a hint of a smile, just the ends of her lips quirked up a little, like she'd been smiling seconds before the picture was taken.

"_What_ in _the_ Hell do you have to _smile_ about?" Gabe Jones, another prisoner, asked Bucky.

Smirking a little, Bucky flipped the phone of Anna around so Gabe could see it. His dark eyebrows raised. "Her name's Anna." Bucky said, letting his friend take the picture.

Another man gave a low whistle, taking the picture from Gabe. "Sure is a looker."

"Smart, too." Bucky said, feeling no shame in bragging about his Glow. "Workin' for some doctor, makin' something that supposed to help us win the war." Bucky explained vaguely, watching carefully as the other men in his cell passed the picture around until it got back to him. Gabe and a few other guys nodded, looking impressed.

A guy in a nearby cell snorted. "Yeah, some dame is gonna bat her eyelashes at Hitler and he's gonna order all his tanks be driven into the ocean."

Bucky turned around and glared at the man through the bars. "You know, I broke a guy's ribs back home for sayin' stuff like that about Annie." He said calmly, turning back and looking at the picture one more time, looking around before gently tracing his finger over Anna's face. He flipped it over and smiled a little at the neatly written words on the back;

_To Bucky _

_From Glow_

He tucked it back into his waistband, covering it with his sweater again.

Anna Brightman, the chemist that was working on a top-secret that would change the path of the war. _Glow_. Bucky thought as he leaned more heavily against the bars and let the exhaustion take over his body. _The light at the end of this damn tunnel_.

**Three Months Later**

_Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. _Bucky numbly thought over and over. He was so exhausted he had to keep reminding himself how to walk.

Turns out these guys didn't want them to rot in cells after all; they wanted them to build their weapons for them. Bucky was building weapons that would kill other Americans, other people who wanted to get them out of here, and the thought made him sick (literally, a few times).

He was one of the guys who pushed, pulled and carried huge hunks of metal to the ones who built the damn bombs

Stopping briefly, Bucky stretched, the joints in his back popped and he groaned at the sounds. A few men looked at him, knowing looks in their eyes. Having been here three months, they all had sore backs from sleeping against iron bars, a good amount of broken ribs and bruises (especially the smart mouths like Bucky) from the damn Germans.

Getting his hands back to the grips he'd managed to find, Bucky went back to carrying a heavy piece of metal to one of the half-made bombs.

He only made it five more feet before he felt the all-too-freakin-familier feeling of the butt of a rifle hitting the back of his shoulder. He let out a painful groan as he fell forward. Leaning on the piece of metal, he felt someone feel around his neck, then pull his dog tags up to read.

"_James Barnes_." A German voice said, butchering his All-American name.

"The one and only." Bucky said through clenched teeth, glaring up at the man in charge. He'd been the one yelling orders and in the black duster when he got here.

The man sneered at him, then threw Bucky's tags down. The rough movement caused his tags to clip his chin. His face pinched in pain for a split second, before he calmly put them back under his shirt.

The man walked away, and Bucky went back to carrying the piece of metal. Trying not to show it, he was worried; the stretching, falling down and standing up had caused Anna's letters to come out of his waistband. Now, they were just pressed against his stomach by his sweater.

Part of his mind started panicking about the letters. What if they fell? Would they just take them and send him on his merry way? Would they put a bullet in his skull? Would they-

**He tripped. **

There was a crack in the concrete floor and he _**tripped**_.

The metal piece slipped form his grasp and fell to the floor with a loud _CLANG!_, but Bucky didn't notice. All that registered was that his letters, held together with a fraying piece of twine, fell from his sweater.

Barely thinking, he launched himself towards the letters, free from the twine and tried to get them back together before someone with a weapon noticed.

As he was on his stomach, searching for the picture, he saw a pair of black boots stop in front of him.

"Looking for 'zis?" the boss-man said. Bucky slowly looked up, and saw a gloved hand holding his picture of Anna.

Bucky swallowed before answering. "Yeah, thanks pal. I'd hate to lose that." He said, trying to sound as much like himself as possible. He could feel the eyes of all the others on him. The factory went near scilent.

The man nodded, turning so he could look at the picture. Bucky's eyes traced over his Glow's neat writing on the back as he did, for what he hoped and prayed wouldn't be the last time.

"She is quite beautiful." He said offhandedly. "Do you love her?" he asked, putting his hands behind his back, taking the picture with them and out of Bucky's view.

Not exactly happy on the ground, Bucky stood up slowly, brushing his pants off. "What's it to you?" he muttered.

"It is a simple question." The man who he'd heard the other's refer to as 'Schmidt' said in a very condescending manner. "Do you love 'ze girl in 'ze picture you 'vorked so hard to hide. _Yes_, or _no_?"

Bucky, working his jaw as he tried to think of the answer that wouldn't end with a bullet in his brain. Not that it worked. The large lack of food and sleep caused him to blurt out the first thing that came into his head, which happened to be '_Yes_' in a mocking German accent.

Schmidt gave a quiet, humorless laugh, before turning to one of the soldiers. "Nehmen Sie ihn draußen. Schießen Sie ihn." He said, a glint in his eye that made Bucky uneasy. (_Take him outside. Shoot him_.)

Bucky was then grabbed by two of the soldiers. As much as he resisted and fought, they started forcing him towards the doors. Cursing loudly and fighting however he could, he was pulled outside.

All the captured soldiers were silent. A few who spoke German whispered what Schmidt ordered.

Bucky was one of the few who refused to be broken. When they were given food (if you can call it that), he'd give a good portion of his to one'a the sicker, weaker men. When he got beat on for saying something smart, he'd say 'I'm from _Brooklyn_, dumb-shit. I've had _dates_ that hit harder than you.' And the way he talked about his girl, Anna, like she was the good thing waiting for him at the end of it all, what he had to live for, it gave them all something to live for.

And knowing he was going to be shot like a dog; it was just something they couldn't understand.

A shot was fired, and they all flinched, a few even fell to their knees for their fallen brother.

"Back to 'vork!" A HYDRA soldier yelled yelled when he came back inside.

* * *

Outside, Bucky was still cursing and swearing loudly. When his feet were put back on the ground, he threw a punch, cracking the goggles of one of the HYDRA soldiers, and trying to pull his limbs free from the others.

One got a grip on his throat, forcing Bucky to stop fighting. He tried to lock his joints, but he was forced on his knees. He thought he heard something pop down there, and pain shot up his thigh.

One soldier held his shoulder, preventing him from standing, and the other readied his rifle.

"I've been 'vaiting to do 'zis…You _ignorant American_." The soldier said in a thick German accent.

"Need a guy on his knees before you put'im down? What? Want me to close my eyes or look away?" He taunted, swallowing the burning pit of fear growing in his stomach. He knew this guy. Once, a month or so ago, he'd taunted a little too much, and ended up dropping a 100 lb. crate on this one. Got beat to hell after 'cause he laughed at it; the big bad HYDRA punk looked like a bug under a spoon.

"_Sie schießen ihn noch nicht!_" Schmidt yelled, walking out of the factory building, the Anna's letters in his hands. The shorter man with glasses was following him, holding the picture. "Machen Sie ihm zu stehen." (_Make him stand._)

When the soldier didn't move, Schmidt pulled out his own gun and fired. The soldier disappeared with a scream in a blue flash.

Bucky was pulled up from under his arms and stumbled slightly as he stood. He swayed slightly, but after he shook his head and blinked a few times, managed to stand up straighter, his face a shocked mask; eyes wide, mouth slack. He thought his heart was going to burst it was beating so fast. He had literally been an inch from death.

The picture of Anna was shoved in his face. "'Zis girl, 'zis _Anna_, 'vat does she do for 'ze American Army?" Schmidt barked in Bucky's face.

"She-She's a chemist. A lab assistant to some doctor." Bucky said, uneasy about telling some insane German about sweet little Annie. He swallowed thickly.

"Dr. Abraham Erskine?" the guy demanded.

"You know what, I don't think I wanna tell you any more about An-" Bucky's defiant rant was stopped when Schmidt grabbed him by the throat and lifted his feet off the ground.

"'vat you _'vant_ is **irrelevant**." Schmidt snarled as he looked up at the man who was currently grabbing at his hand, nails scraping his skin as he gasped for air. He dropped _James Barnes_ and turned to the soldiers who were awaiting orders.

"Nehmen Sie ihn in einen leeren Raum. Rain ihn. Doktor Zola? Bereiten was Verstärker Sie haben." Schmidt ordered, looking at the gasping man at his feet. (_Take him to an empty room. Restrain him. Doctor Zola? Prepare whatever you have.)_

Bucky, still on the ground and clutching his throat, was hauled to his feet. He didn't fight this time; he didn't have the energy. A bag was put over his head, and he gave up (for the next 6 to 12 hours), letting his head loll forward.

* * *

One of the men called attention to the door. Others looked, and looked in confusion as they say a man, clearly Bucky Barnes from how he was dressed, being dragged back into the factory with a sack over his head.

"Is he dead?" One of the younger men asked.

The soldiers dragging him porously hit his head on a crate.

Bucky groaned. "Watch where you're going…freakin' morons…"

Some of the men chuckled; only Bucky Barnes could say something smart with a bag over his head.

"Where are they taking him?" the same young soldier asked; he couldn't be more than 18. Younger if he lied and enlisted.

One of the men who was higher up watched the soldiers. "Their taking him to the third floor corridor." He called down.

"What happens on the third floor?" the same soldier asked.

"We don't know." Another answered him. "No one's ever come back from it."


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry this chapter is a little late. I've been sick for the last 10 days, and am overwhelmed with schoolwork. So, this chapter isn't as polished as I'd like it to be. *shrug***

**~Christianne**

* * *

Anna POV

I pinched my eyes shut and leaned over the barrel again, dry heaving into it. Again.

"You sure you're ok?" Howard asked behind me.

"I-I'm _fine_." I insisted, standing up and wiping my mouth. "I don't like flying. And, _you_ playing fighter pilot while we're being shot at, I'm not sure I'll ever get on a plane again."

"Aw, it wasn't that bad." Howard frowned, well, pouted.

"_Lordy_ I don't think I've _ever_ been so scared I was gonna die." I said, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. "And I've been _shot_."

Howard didn't say anything, just started to tear broken pieces of plane off and to the side. Aside from the last two sentences he'd said, he'd been uncharacteristically quiet.

"Do you think he'll find them?" I asked quietly, still on the floor, playing with some of the hair that had fallen out of my bun. It was long now, too long. Since I put it up every day, I didn't notice how long it had gotten. It was almost to the small of my back when the curls were pulled straight. If I let them corkscrew out of control, the ends lifted a few inches to the middle of my back.

Howard, instead of answering me, kicked a hunk of metal across the floor.

"Yup…He has too." He said under his breath.

* * *

Omniscient POV

Bucky let out a sigh as he walked next to Steve. It was still hard to wrap his head around the fact that Steve—Short, small, asthmatic _Steve_—was now a shield wielding hero. It wasn't the hero part he was having trouble grasping, it was the fact that Steve was now at least half a foot taller than him and outweighed him by _at least_ 75 pounds, maybe more since Bucky wasn't exactly well fed at this point.

"You feelin' ok?" Steve asked his friend, hearing the sigh he'd let out. Bucky just shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the one hundred or so men walking behind them, and the two or three vehicles and tanks they'd snatched on the way out.

"Fine…Fine…" Bucky said dismissively.

"Hey, what was that you were saying back there? In the lab, you were mumbling something." Steve finally asked. He'd been wanting to ask for a good hour.

"A poem." Bucky said simply.

"A _poem_." Steve repeated. "Who are you, and what have you done with my friend who failed English?" he chuckled.

"Hey, _almost_ failed." Bucky corrected him, pointing a finger at him as he did so. "And _what_? I can't read poems?"

"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying the last place you were probably didn't have a good library." Steve said, a sarcastic tone in his voice. He also glanced over his shoulder, surprised no one had said anything. They must have just been focusing on following Captain America out of hell and into a less that heavenly Army camp.

"I read it a few months back, when I was in basic training." Bucky corrected him.

Steve looked at his best friend and narrowed his eyes a little. "You read it for Anna, didn't you?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I read a damn poem?" Bucky asked defensively. He still felt odd talking about Annie; they weren't really going steady, or, together in any way to be honest. But he felt so _protective_ of her. Back in the HYDRA factory after he and his group just about collapsed and were thrown back in the cells, the guys would ask him about 'his girl,' and he'd recant the same few details about her, and fall asleep holding her picture.

"'Cause I know you." Steve said simply, bring Bucky back from the daze he seemed to have fallen into. "You _sure_ you're alright?"

"I'm fine, Steve." Bucky sighed. "Is this how I was you were sick back home?" He asked a second later.

"Oh, you were worse." Steve chuckled.

"Shut up…'ya little punk." Bucky mumbled, a little smile on his face.

"You must be carrying one Hell'a'va torch for Anna if you memorized a poem for her." Steve said offhandedly a few minutes later.

"You bet your ass I am." Bucky said without thinking, a fond smirk coming over his features as he thought about his Glow.

"You know I gotta ask." Steve started a few moments later. "_Why_ were you reciting a poem when you were tied to a table in the a HYDRA factory?" Steve asked.

Bucky didn't say anything, because, clearly, Steve didn't know what he was asking. Even if he did, Bucky didn't know how to answer.

_He_ wasn't even 100% sure what happened.

…

"Hey! Let's hear it for Captain America!" Bucky yelled over the already loud men. Steve looked a little uncomfortable with all the attention on him, but he still smiled a little. Bucky went to his best friend and clapped him on the shoulder as hard as he could. It didn't seem to faze Steve, but it hurt Bucky's had a little.

A flash of blonde caught Bucky's eye. Upon further inspection, Bucky's eyes widened a little and his brows furrowed, almost in denial of what he was seeing. "Hey, Steve." He said, getting his friend's attention. "Do you see the beautiful blonde over there? Or and have I started hallucinating?"

Confused, Steve followed his friend's gaze. Then, he laughed a little. "You mean _Anna_?" he asked, humor in his voice.

"Yup." Bucky said, grinning. "Be right back pal." He said, smacking Steve's shoulder again before walking towards Annie.

* * *

Anna POV

I'd never fallen asleep in a lab before.

Howard has, lots of times, but I never have. It's a miracle, really, with how much time I've spent in labs. That's what made my waking up on a set of seats Howard pulled out of the plane so odd. It just never happened. But if I ever had to fall asleep in the lab, it was a because of the white noise from the radio that was supposed to broadcast Steve's signal.

"Hey! Anna! _Annie_, you're gonna wanna see this sweetheart!" Howard said, tossing me my jacket. I grabbed it and groggily got up and followed Howard out of the tent.

Everyone was running towards the entrance to the camp. I tried to keep a grip on Howard's sleeve as we wove in between the men and buildings as a very quick pace and being that I still wasn't completely awake, I lost him pretty quick.

I followed the crowd, hopping up on my tiptoes now and then to try and see what was going on.

"Hey! Let's hear it for Captain America!" Someone yelled, making the men around me yell and throw their hands up. I grinned; _this_ meant Steve came back. I jumped out of the way as more men ran towards the main source of the yelling.

I found my way to Howard, who was leaning against a support pole of a tent. I stood next to him, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as I smiled.

"I knew it." Howard said simply, just loud enough to be heard over the celebratory yelling.

"No you didn't." I retorted, looking at him with a sidelong, knowing gaze.

"Ok, maybe I didn't. But that doesn't mean I'm not happy." Howard reasoned, shrugging a little.

As the crowed parted a little, my breath hitched and my eyes locked on a tall, broad shouldered man with brown hair. His face was unshaven and streaked with dirt and grime, and he looked like he'd lost quite a bit of weight, but he was still as handsome and ever. _Bucky_.

He spoke to Steve for a second, before he started towards me and Howard with that half-smirk half-smile on his face.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone." I heard Howard say as he walked behind me. I almost didn't want Howard to leave, I would have rather had an awkward introduction session than be alone with him. Not that I didn't want to be. I just didn't know what to say.

"Hi." Bucky said simply, almost carefree.

"Hello." I said in return, my arms crossing tightly over my chest as I looked at my shoes as I tried to think of something to say.

"So, what brings you to the middle of a warzone?" Bucky asked me, the half-smirk still on his face.

I shrugged. "Work, I guess." Bucky chuckled a little, then seemed to sway as he stood. He tried to cover it up by leaning on the same pole that Howard did, but I noticed. He blinked rapidly for a second, widening his eyes briefly before looking at me again, like he was trying to stay focused and awake.

"You should go get checked out by the doctors." I blurted out.

"Nah, nah I'm fine. Some'a these guys lost arms and-and stuff…I'm just a little tired." Bucky muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hand.

"No…No, c'mon, I'm sure one of the doctors can just take a look at you." I said, gently grasping his sleeve and tugging.

My little tug made him completely fall forward. If he hadn't grabbed the pole he would have fallen on top of me. "Oh! _Bucky_!" I yelped, trying to help him stand.

"I gotcha," I heard Steve say, and then suddenly appear to pull Bucky's arm over his own shoulders to help him stand. "Anna, we need a doctor-"

"That's just what I was telling him, come over here." I said, starting to hurry through the many running men to one of the smaller medic tents. I held the flap open as Steve pulled a protesting Bucky into the tent and gently dropping him on a bed. There were only a few other men in the tent, a few medics restocking their packs, and a nurse tending to a wound one of the soldiers got; going by how he was getting his knuckles wrapped and cleaned, he'd gotten in a fight.

"I'll get a doctor-" Steve started.

"No, no I-I can do the basic things, a-a checkup, so to speak." I said quickly, riffling through the various supplies in the tent. "I've been practicing." I babbled on nervously as I produced a stethoscope.

"I'm fine-" Bucky started to protest.

"Shh!" I said, pointing at him briefly before turning to Steve. "I'll take care of him." I assured him. He nodded once before dashing out of the tent. I turned back to see Bucky still on the cot Steve dumped him on, propped up on his elbows, looking at me with a tired, lazy, expectant look on his face.

Bucky didn't say much. He just let me help him sit up and took deep breaths when I told him too. "Does anything hurt?" I asked softly, moving the stethoscope to a different part of his back.

"Yeah, my heart 'cause a dame from Manhattan didn't cry when she saw me." He said teasingly after taking a deep breath.

"Does anything hurt?" I asked again, truly worried about his mental state at this point.

"C'mon, what do I have to do to get a couple'a tears? Huh?" he asked, a silly grin on his face.

"_Bucky_!" I said, my frustration and worry making my voice sharper and giving me the impulse to grab his face, my hands cupping his strong, defined jaw, rough with a little bit of dark stubble, to make him look up at me. He seemed surprised, because his full-lipped mouth went slack and his blue eyes widened a little as he looked at me in surprise. "Does, anything, _hurt_." I asked slowly.

"Uh…My-my neck's a little sore…" he said, his tone lacking its usual confidence and charm. It was quieter and sounded mildly stunned.

"Ok," I said softly, letting his face go as I walked behind him. Bucky didn't move as I pulled the back of his shirt down to see. His skin was covered in a grime of dirt and sweat, but the spot where his shoulders met the left side of his neck was a cleaner than I thought it'd be.

It looked a little swollen and upon further inspection, I saw what looked like several needle marks. I gently prodded the skin around one of the pin-prick marks.

"_Jeez_ woman! Warn me before you do that!" Bucky yelped quickly, jerking his body away from my hands. He spun around and looked at me with apologetic eyes. "Uh, sorry, Annie…Just…wasn't prepared for that." He mumbled awkwardly.

"Its fine," I assured him, putting my hands on his shoulders again to turn him back around.

"Um…Do-Do you know what happened? To-To you?...At-At the-" I started to stutter out as I inspected the apparent needle marks on the back of his neck.

"Wow." Bucky chuckled, making his shoulders go up and down a little. "You've _really_ lost a lot'a that spunk I brought out in 'ya, huh?" He sighed.

"I have plenty of spunk." I said quickly. "And you didn't answer my question." I added, softer than before.

Bucky looked down, his brows wrinkling and his jaw working before he answered me. "I passed out on the floor, I think." He muttered lowly. "Woke up on the table Steve found me on."

"Oh." I said weakly, my hands weren't pushing his greasy hair out of the way anymore, or gently prodding the skin around the small pin-pricks. They were just resting on his shoulders as I sat behind him on the cot.

"Don't really remember much." He continued, having this sort of light, careless tone. He could have been talking about the weather. "Only thing I'm _pretty_ _sure_ happened was Steve finding me babblin' about a bandersnatch before he, literally, ripped me free."

My brows furrowed, but before I could say anything, Bucky started talking again. "But, you know, I'm not even completely sure _that_ happened." He added. "It's just too much to wrap my head around."

"Yeah..." I said, quickly, going to the cabinet with the medical supplies again. "I have to take a little blood." I said, finding the medical supplies I needed. "If that's ok."

"Yeah, yeah that's fine." Bucky said, already rolling up his sleeve. I sat back down on an overturned crate with the needle and other supplies in my lap.

"Did-Did you say _bandersnatch_, before?" I asked as I used an alcohol swab in the crevice of his arm. I frowned; most of the veins in his arm were blown, like some on tried repeatedly to put an IV in his arm, and failed miserably. I checked his other arm, and frowned; those veins were blown too. I found one that was still intact, and put my thumb over it so I'd remember where it was as I tied the stretchy rubber ribbon around his lower bicep.

"Uh-huh." He said, his shoulders slouching down as he sat. Bucky was looking drowsier and significantly less chipper; the adrenalin from escaping must have finally started to wear off.

"From-From the Jabberwocky?" I asked, inspecting the needle once more, giving him time to answer before I stuck it in his arm.

"Yeah," Bucky sighed, looking at me with those crystal blue eyes that, even when exhausted and possibly having been injected with something, had a charming, boyish glint in them. "Figured with you being so smart, I needed something to talk to you about when we went out dancing." His lazy smirk became pinched for a second as the needle sunk into his skin.

"Dancing?" I asked, trying to make him look at me and not the needle drawing blood from his arm. "Hey, lay down, would you?" I asked, holding his arm steady as Bucky let his torso fall backwards onto the cot and let out a content groan.

"Uh-huh." Bucky sighed, quirking that smirk up at me. "You're the smartest gal I know, Glow. Couldn't just twirl you around and have nuthin' to say."

"Who said anything about twirling?" I asked, pulling the needle out of his arm. I quickly taped a square of gauze on his arm and peeked up at him.

The lazy smile was still on his face, but his eyes had a little more sparkle in them. "Aw, you're breakin' muh' heart here Glow." Bucky teased lightly.

"Bucky," I said, trying to snap him out of the daze he was in as best I could. "Bucky, you've been through a lot in the past twenty four hours. Just-Just go and get a good meal and sleep a while."

"Then dancing?" He asked, his eyes barely open.

"Then we'll _discuss_ dancing." I confirmed, putting a second seal on the end of the vial before dropping it into a brown paper envelope. I wrote the information needed on the front then turned back to see Bucky snoring lightly as he slouched down farther.

I sighed and shook my head.

* * *

Omniscient POV

"Steve!" Anna called, waving the tall blond over. "He passed out, and he can't really stay in there…" She trailed off, holding tightly to the envelope in her hands.

"Say no more. I'll get him." Steve said reassuringly, giving Anna a small nod before she ran off.

Ducking into the tent, Steve chuckled a little, seeing his friend snoring on the cot. "Alright pal, time'ta get movin'." He said, shaking his friend's shoulders.

Bucky grunted before shaking his head a little. He limply let Steve pull him up and pull his arm over his shoulders, practically taking all of Bucky's weight as they stumbled towards an empty bunk.

"'ya know that Anna is kinda a real doctor now? A people-fixin' doctor, not a sorta-kinda, all thinkin' type a doctor." Bucky slurred as he was pulled into a new tent. He looked up at his newly-tall friend with a goofy, half-conscious smile.

"I didn't." Steve said, hoisting Bucky off his shoulders and onto a cot.

Bucky groaned as he buried his face into the musty pillow. It was far from the best place to get sleep, but it was all but heaven to the exhausted soldier.

Steve was about to leave, when Bucky spoke again.

"I'm gonna marry that girl one day." He said in a sighed slur as his eyes shut and his arm went slack and slid off the cot.

3+6


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey there!**

**Well, this will probably be my last update before Oct. 31, when my little faceclaim thingy is up. It occurred to me yesterday that I didn't tell you what the person who's faceclaim I picked will win. **

**The person who submits the faceclaim that I pick, will get to inspire a character in this story.****I'll take a name, physical description, personality, and any other minor details from the winning faceclaim-er, and they will make a little cameo in this story!**

**Well, maybe that will be an intensive for a few more faceclaims. :) Also, I know a bunch of you just put a suggestion in a review, so, I guess I'll be accepting those too. But really, just ask for my email! That way, I can give you the next two chapters!**

**Well, that's it. Enjoy!**

**~Christianne**

* * *

Anna POV

I was waiting for the results of Bucky's blood test, and with nothing else to do, I was pacing around Howard's workshop-tent.

"Will you sit down?" Howard finally asked, looking up from the charred remains of files and parts salvaged from the HYDRA factory that had been blown to high heaven. He was trying to figure out what they had been building and how they worked.

"I _can't_ sit down!" I said, frustrated. "I can't _do_ anything!" I added, throwing my hands up. I'd sent Bucky's blood out yesterday, and wouldn't have the results for a few _weeks_. I need a real lab to do any more with the serum, and you won't let me help you! So _what_ should I do?"

"You could get me a cuppa' coffee." Howard mumbled. I stopped my pacing and glared at him. Howard, realizing his mistake, slowly looked up. "Please?" He added weakly.

"You're lucky I don't have anything else to do, Howard Stark." I muttered, making my way out of his tent and to the tent where everyone was apparently going for food.

"Annie!" I heard someone call. I turned around from the box I was getting a mug out of, and saw Bucky jogging towards me.

"Hi." I said, trying to force the grin off my face. It was good to see him up and around.

"Steve told me you sent my blood off to some lab." He said, using the back of his wrist to wipe his chin, making sure he didn't have any oatmeal on it I'm sure.

"Yeah, won't have results for a few more days." I sighed, pouring Howard's coffee into the mug. I looked up and saw Bucky looking at the mug almost longingly. "Want a cup?" I asked slowly, lifting the coffee pot a little.

"Uh…No…No, can't." he mumbled, shoving another spoonful of the soupy oatmeal into his mouth. I looked at him questioningly, expecting more of an explanation. "Been livin' on stale bread and something that tasted like cheese and looked like old meat. Doc said nothin' too rich, gave me and the other guys a list a'stuff we can't have for a few days." He sighed and stirred his soupy oatmeal again. "Man, I'd give my left arm for a plate of eggs and hash browns right now." He sighed sadly. "And syrup. Lots and _lots_ of syrup." He added wistfully.

I nodded understandingly, my gaze drifting to the contents of a tray next to the coffee maker. "Do you mind?" I asked, gesturing to the bowl. Bucky looked down at the lumpy, soupy mixture, then back up at me with a…almost amused look on his face.

"Sure. Have at it." Bucky chuckled, holding his bowl out to me.

I set it on the counter and grabbed a few things from the cabinet. After sprinkling a few different things into the poor tasting oatmeal (I'd eaten my fair share) I stirred it a few times, then handed it back to him. "How's that?" I asked.

"A little sugar isn't gonna make this horse feed any better." Bucky stated, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth. His eyebrows went up in surprise as he swallowed. "Huh." He said simply.

"My dad grew up poor, on a farm upstate New York. Ate that type of stuff for breakfast every day until he was 18. He thought it built character for me and my Upper East Side brothers or something." I shrugged and stirred sugar into Howard's coffee. He usually took it black, but since he had the _audacity_ to _ask me to get it for him_, he'd have to take his coffee like I did; four spoonful's of sugar and a dash of milk.

"My mom grew up on an estate in Maine and didn't think kids gained anything from eating crap like that for breakfast. She got pretty creative in mixing up bowls like that." I explained, shrugging a little. "Makes it tolerable at least."

"Uh-huh." Bucky said, making a mildly obnoxious slurping noise as he tried to stop some oatmeal that was sliding down his bottom lip and over his chin. "Ah crap." He muttered, swallowing and using his sleeve to wipe his chin again. I looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes and slowly shook my head.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Sometimes, it really seems you have no manners." I sighed, starting to walk back to Howard. "You still have some on your chin, by the way."

"Well, I haven't exactly had a lot of opportunities to _display_ my manners lately." Bucky defended himself, scrubbing his chin with his sleeve and still completely missing the food on it.

"Doesn't mean you let them go to the dogs." I told him, grabbing a clean-looking rag from the table. I reached forward to wipe off his chin. "You're not gonna get it." I mumbled when he leaned his head away from my hand.

"Thanks, Glow." Bucky said, his defensively teasing tone gone as he looked down at me with a fond smile. I slowly retracted my hand and glanced down, clearing my throat. I turned away, and looked for Howard.

"Oh, isn't that just _perfect_." I sighed. "Went through all the trouble to get him a cup of coffee for him and he just _left_!" I pouted, throwing my free hand up in the air.

I looked around the tent once, setting the coffee on the table in the center. I sighed and turned around to face Bucky, who was still at the entrance, leaning on a support beam. "You can come in, you know." I told him, taking a drink of the coffee intended for Howard.

Not wasting any time, Bucky walked in and stood next to me, looking at the papers and mangles pieces of metal on the table. "What's Stark trying to do?" He asked me.

"Even though Schmidt blew the factory sky high, it's pretty darn hard to _completely_ obliterate something as big as that." I started to explain, turning a few papers so I could read them. "The rooms all the way on the bottom, like the file rooms in the sub-basements.

"Howard and I are trying to figure out how the rockets work, that way we can figure out how to do something about it. Fight them, fight back or something." I told him, looking up at him.

"I thought you were chemistry-smart." Bucky said with teasingly narrowed eyes.

"Well, that's what I have a degree in." I said with a shrug. When Bucky's expression didn't change, so I kept talking. "If I could, I'd get degrees for a whole bunch of different science fields. Engineering, physics, medical science, genetics…I just sorta had to pick, you know? Chemistry was as advanced as I could afford."

Bucky nodded, understanding. He set his bowl down on the edge of the table away from the papers and grabbed two stools that had been shoved against the wall. Howard rarely sat still, he'd move around the lab quickly. Stools and chairs got in his way. I smiled at him shyly and sat down.

"What about that top secret project? Thought that's why Phillips was keeping you around." Bucky said, ignoring the stool he brought over for himself, picking the bowl of oatmeal back up.

I shrugged sadly. "That's…That's moving a little slow. Dr. Erskine didn't write everything down, and my notebook was stolen, so I have to redo a whole bunch or research and trial and error. And what he did write down is coded, and in German…The German part isn't an issue really." I sighed, propping my elbows on the table and resting my chin on my hands. I peeked up at Bucky. "I'm stalling now. Have to think of something to keep me here soon, otherwise I'd be sent home." Bucky looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

"Ah! Annie! There you are." Peggy said, walking into the tent, stopping when she saw Bucky, she narrowed her eyes a little. Bucky, a little uneasy under the brunette's harsh stare gave one of those charming smiles.

"This him?" Peggy asked, gesturing vaguely to Bucky. I looked away from both Peggy and Bucky as I nodded a little. "_Oh_." I heard Peggy say with a little bit of sarcasm.

_SMACK! _I whirled around and gasped as I saw Bucky stumbled back a step with a stunned look on his face as he held one of his cheeks.

"_Peggy_!" I gasped, grabbing my friends arm and pushed her back a little. I looked up at Bucky with worried eyes, gently prying a hand off his smarting red cheek.

"She-She slapped me!" Bucky said quietly, stunned. "She—Why'd you _slap_ me?" he asked Peggy over my head.

"Do you know what a _mess_ Annie was when you stopped writing back?" The Brit started to scold.

"Peggy!" I snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the tent. I smacked her arm a few times as I explained to her exactly _why_ Bucky had stopped writing me back. She had wanted to go in and apologize, but I was so mad at her I just threw my arms in the air and went back in the tent; Bucky was still eating his oatmeal, but one hand was gently prodding his cheek.

"Are you alright?" I asked him.

"She slaps hard." Bucky said idly, letting me turn his face to the side a little to see his red cheek.

"For what it's worth, she's sorry." I said, going back to the table. "There was a bit of a…misunderstanding..." I trailed off as I saw his fond, happy little smile/smirk on his face. "What?" I asked, shifting uncomfortable and self-conscious under his gaze.

"So…You were a mess, huh?" he asked teasingly.

I pressed my lips tightly together so I didn't smile as I started shuffling papers around on the table. "Of _course_ you fixate on that." I muttered. I heard Bucky chuckle, but I didn't look up.

"How'd your notebook get stolen?" he asked after a few more minutes of silence.

"After the test with Steve went as planned, some HYDRA agent who'd snuck in set off a bomb, shot Dr. Erskine and me, he made off with the two extra vials of serum and my notes." I told him as I looked down at the papers again.

I jumped slightly when I heard something clatter onto the table top. I saw Bucky looking at me with a blank, stunned look on his face, one hand was up and empty, the other still held his bowl. I saw his spoon on the table. I quickly took his bowl out of his hands so he didn't drop it, and looked at him questioningly.

"You…You, were…_Shot_." Bucky said dumbly, his blue eyes wide with disbelief.

I nodded. "Yeah, in the shoulder. The left one." I told him. His expression went blank, and he fell back to sit on his stool. "Are you ok?" I asked him, setting his oatmeal bowl on the table.

"Yeah…Yeah, I'm…I'm ok." Bucky said, obviously thinking about something else; he had an odd look on his face.

I went back to the papers, but still felt his gaze on the side of my head. I peeked at him slowly, and almost blushed at the intense gaze he had. "Bucky?" I asked cautiously. "You alright?" I asked him again.

Bucky nodded quickly, blinking rapidly. "Yeah…Yeah…" He muttered, still looking at me with his piercing blue eyes. His hand slowly raised up to touch my shoulder. "How-How bad was it?" He asked quietly.

"Hey." I said, taking his hand off my shoulder. "I'm fine. Didn't hit anything major, barely need any stitches." I assured him, but his expression didn't change.

"What's the point?" I heard him mumble under his breath as he played with my hand in his.

"Huh?" I asked.

He looked up at me briefly before looking back at my hand, fiddling with my fingers. The edges of his mouth twitched a few times, like he didn't know what to say. "What's…What's the point?" He repeated, louder this time, as he looked up at me. My brows furrowed as I looked up at him in confusion.

"You know…thought a lot about you…when I was _there_." He said, his cerulean blue eyes were shadowed by the angle of his head, and weren't sparkling. "I told myself…I told myself it was all…" he kept trailing off.

"Are you gonna finish any'a these sentences?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Told myself it was all to keep you safe." Bucky said, still playing with my fingers. "Just…kept tellin' myself that. Made it all seem…worth it...And…And it didn't really matter, you got shot anyway."

"Hey, hey now, I'm fine. It's not like you could have stopped the bullet." I told him, taking his hands in mine, and making him look at me. Bucky was still looking at the floor.

He abruptly brushed my hands away and grabbed me into a tight hug. His face was pressed into the top of my left shoulder, his long arms wrapping around my back and grabbing under my arm pits. He pulled me off my stool so I was leaning flush against his chest. I was stunned for a moment or two, before I wrapped my arms around his neck. I rested my cheek on his chest, listening to the steady _thump-thump_ of his heart.

"Were you really a mess when I stopped writing you?" Bucky mumbled against my blouse-clad shoulder.

I let out a soft giggle. "Oh _yes_. I was _crying_ for eight weeks." I said lightly.

"Only eight?" Bucky responded.

"Well, I'm no use to anyone as a balling mess, are I? Who'd want that?" I asked into his shirt. I couldn't be sure, but I swore he'd said 'I'd want that.'

I could hear the clock ticking as we stood there, I think it was well over 10 minutes. We just stood there, holding each other. I don't know about him, but I just felt so safe in his arms.

"Are you ok, Bucky?" I asked softly, not looking up at him; I kept my cheek pressed to his chest.

"Mm-hmm." Bucky mumbled into my shoulder. He lolled his head to the side, so he was facing my neck. His breath tickled.

My eyebrows furrowed. "You don't seem ok." I told him.

He shook his head a little and shrugged. "Just…Just thinkin' about what-what kinda…what kinda pain you musta been in…" he trailed off.

"Hey, I'm fine now." I told him quickly. "Really, I am."

I leaned back from him, and he slowly looked up at me with an expression that made him look years younger than he was. He nodded, one of his hands raising up to gently brush my cheek. It trailed down my jaw and came to rest on my neck while his thumb stroked my cheek. I was staring up at him with wide eyes, and he was staring back with those baby blues that could make a girl speechless.

His thumb grazed my bottom lip, and I shivered, my hands grabbing onto his shirt. He took a step closer, and angled his head down towards mine. His other hand brushed hair behind my ears, trailed down my shoulder to my wrist, and slowly wound his larger fingers with mine.

My breath hitched as his nose bumped mine, and his thumb started to trace circles on the back of my hand.

"Hey Stark!-Oh."

I jumped about a foot in the air, and nearly tripped over the stool behind me before I grabbed the edge of the table and leaned on it, staring at the floor.

Steve was still standing awkwardly at the entrance of the tent. I peeked over at Bucky, who was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand with the other jammed in his pocket. He was glaring at Steve, though.

"How-" My voice came out squeaky and broken. I stopped and cleared my throat before I kept speaking. "Howard isn't here." I finished.

Steve nodded, his hands fidgeting at his sides and his cheeks tinted pink. "Oh-ok…" He trailed off. "I-I'll just…go…then…" he said, stood there a few more moments, then turned around and left.

I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding, and pressed a hand to my forehead.

"_Lordy_…" I breathed. I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed in my life. I stayed like that, leaning on the table, hand to my forehead and staring at the ground.

I jumped when Bucky cleared his throat. I looked up at him, and gnawed on the inside of my cheek as I went back to the papers on the table.

Bucky sighed quietly and picked up his bowl of oatmeal, standing next to me again.

"That doesn't go there." He said a minute or two later.

"Huh?" I asked, looking up from the half-burnt paper I was reading. We'd been in almost complete silence for the past few minutes.

"That part," Bucky said, mouthful, as he used his spoon to point to a drawn part of the mock-up sketch Howard had come up with. "Doesn't go there; goes under this thing." He finished, moving to point to another part of the sketch.

I dropped the papers and stood up, knocking my stool over. "Thi-This part?" I asked, pointing to what he had; the hydrogen reaction chamber.

"Yeah, doesn't do way in back there, goes more in the front, up here." He used his spoon to point again. "Goes under the bottle-things," he clarified.

"Compressed nitrogen valves." I breathed, my mind going a hundred miles an hour.

"You're saying this part, this part _right_ _here_," I emphasized, pointing to the reaction chamber. "Doesn't go here." I said slowly.

"_Yes_." Bucky said, mimicking my slow, emphasized tone. "I had'ta build these damn things, I know where _most_ of the parts go."

I looked at the papers and some of Howard's scribbled notes. This was _chemistry_. I knew chemistry. The equation was simple.

"They won't work." I realized.

"Uh?" Bucky asked, his spoon in his mouth.

"They're-_They're not going to work!_" I said, louder and almost giddy. "Oh Bucky I could _kiss_ you!" I said as I started grabbing papers, files and notes up in my arms to bring to Howard, where ever he was.

Bucky had frozen in place, spoon half way from his mouth back to the bowl. "Ok." He said, seemingly shocked. It wasn't as adorable as it could have been; he had oatmeal sliding down his chin. I giggled, my gaze falling to the floor.

After I made sure I had all the notes I needed, I raced around the table, past Bucky to the door. Just as I was about to leave, I stopped, my knees locking like a colts. I spun around, ran back to Bucky, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran out of the lab yelling 'Howard!'


	20. Chapter 20

**Happy Halloween everyone! Not to brag, but I'm dressed as the Winter Soldier right now, and I feel pretty kick-ass right now. ;)**

**Anyway, on to the business of the day; the winner of the little faceclaim submissions deal. Congratulations Saint-Brooke-Lynn! Gabriella Wilde is now the face of Anna Brightman! Privet message me so I can get the details for the cameo of a character of your own design in this story. Congratulations! ****You all can see the picture on the site I made for this story, the link is on my page.**

**Enjoy the extra long chapter!**

**~Christianne**

* * *

Anna POV

"Peggy I-I don't know if-"

"Oh _hush_, will you?" She said, rolling her eyes a little. She paused to fix her hair in the window of the bar, and swiping a finger under her bottom lip to get rid of the nonexistent red smudges from her lipstick.

"I don't do this!" I said, nervously feeling the thick, heavily sprayed waves that swept over my forehead. "I-I _don't_-"

"_I'm_ going in." Peggy announced as she smoothed her red dress. "I won't be long, if you want to stand out in the cold, be my guest." She said quickly, walking confidently into the bar. I frowned as I looked after the woman I considered my best friend.

It wasn't that cold. A little chilly, maybe, but I wasn't uncomfortable; temperature wise, that is. I was _very_ uncomfortable in the outfit Peggy had thrown at me; a pale pink dress that was a little more fitted and…well, _flattering_, than I was used to.

* * *

Omniscient POV

"Agent Carter." Steve said, greeting the dark haired woman who'd gotten the loud bar down to a dull murmur.

"Captain." She said, not acknowledging Bucky, who stood next to Steve, and was feeling _very_ ignored. "Can't stay long…Annie didn't want to come in." She said, shaking her head a little.

Bucky perked up at the mention of the blonde chemist. He looked around, and saw the familiar golden blonde hair out the front window. "Uh…I'll be…" Bucky started to speak, gaining both Peggy's and Steve's attention. "I'll be…right…" He trailed off again as Anna's head bobbed out of sight as he started to walk towards the door.

When it came back into view, Bucky took a few quick steps back to the bar and downed the last of the whisky in his glass. "I-I gotta…do'a…sumthin'." He muttered, walking away, towards the door and the blonde.

When Bucky reached the door, he opened it slowly and saw Anna sitting on a bench in front of the window. She had a small notebook in her lap, scribbling stuff Bucky couldn't begin to understand on the pages.

"Now, what's wrong with this picture?" He asked, crossing his arms as he leaned on the window of the bar.

Anna jumped when she heard his voice and spun around. Her wide brown eyes looked brighter and bigger with the black kohl rimming them, and Bucky's smirk became a little more like a smile as he took in her appearance for the night. Her hair wasn't a poorly controlled mess of curls. Instead it was in large, smooth waves. By normal standards, one might argue that this was a better look on her than the wild corkscrew curls, but Bucky had a soft spot for them. Her clothes were pressed, spotless, and colorful (a dark, dusty pink), opposed to the neutral colors she usually wore in attempt to hide the stains from the lab.

"Hi Bucky," was all she said, quickly closing her notebook.

"You know, the music here isn't half-bad." Bucky pointed out, that half-smirk on his face.

"Oh?" she asked, standing as she stuffed the small notebook and pencil into her purse.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod.

Anna looked down at her shoes, trying not to scuff the heels. "You know, I've only seen you wear your uniform the proper way once." She said after a few seconds of silence.

Bucky chuckled at her random remark. "Really?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and glancing down at himself.

"Yeah…At the expo." Annie said, eyeing the jacket he had on. It was the same one he'd worn that night, only it was a little more worn now, and about a size and a half too big. She had a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that that had been _a year ago_.

It was how big the jacket seemed on him that worried Anna. She had looked in Bucky's medical files, and with the check-up she'd given him when he first returned to the base, he'd lost a lost more weight than she'd originally guessed during his…_stay_, at the HYDRA factory.

"Oh, yeah…" Bucky trailed off, his blue eyes narrowing a little as he looked at Anna, trying to see if he'd be pushing too hard in asking for a dance.

"Are you gonna ask me to dance again?" Anna asked before Bucky had made his decision again.

"Thinkin' about it," Bucky said honestly, still holding the half-smirk on his face. He noticed Anna shiver a little as a light breeze made her dress ruffle. "At least come inside." Bucky bargained. Anna sent him a slightly apprehensive look.

Bucky rolled his eyes and leaned off the wall and took a few steps towards Anna, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I promise I won't twirl you against your will." He said playfully, unaware how Anna's heart was pounding in her ears as she looked up into Bucky's blue eyes.

"Ok." She said quietly. Bucky smirked and stood up, holding his arm out for her to take, which she did with no hesitation.

The bar was still loud and full of people. Bucky noticed Anna was still shivering a little, and slid his jacket off.

"I'm fine." Anna told him before he could sling it over her shoulders. They stood in comfortable silence, backs against the back wall of the bar. A few men had found partners and were spinning them around the dance floor.

"Alright," Bucky said, unable to stay still and quiet anymore. He turned so his shoulder was along the wall as he looked down at Anna from a few inches away. With his broad shoulders, he practically swallowed the petit blonde.

"This, right here, is my final offer." Bucky started off, making Anna's eyebrows pull together in confusion. "I helped you out with the files and the map, went at it with the punk who made you drop them in the first place. Went at it with the same guy _again_ when he couldn't take a hint. Taught you how'ta form a fist. Made one'a the smarter fellas in the barracks explain that poem so I had something to talk to you about, and gave you my night when you really needed it. _And_, I wasn't gonna mention it, but I helped you figure that some weapons of mass destruction were actually worthless.

"'Sides, I think I'm a pretty good company, so how about you dance with me and we call it even, huh? You say no, I won't ask again." His tone wasn't harsh or accusing; if anything it was playful. Anna felt her heart swelling as she listened to it.

"C'mon Glow, just _one song_." Bucky playfully pled one more time, even bringing his shoulders into a slight hunch and widening his eyes in an effort to look innocent. While he was being a bit dramatic, Anna could clearly see in his blue eyes he was honest in that he wasn't going to ask her again; he _really_ wanted her to say yes.

Anna gnawed on her lip and looked at her feet. When she finally peeked up at Bucky with her whisky colored eyes through her long, mascaraed eyelashes, she nodded. "Ok." She said quietly.

* * *

Anna POV

"Yeah, yeah just…_there_," Bucky said, nodding as I put one of my hands up by his shoulder as he took my other one in his. I felt his other hand slowly come to rest at the small of my beck. I could feel the heat from his hand through the material of my dress as it pressed lightly into the small of my back; high enough not to be raunchy and vulgar, but not so high so there was no intimacy in the gesture. I stumbled a bit and I saw Bucky's mouth tug into a little smirk.

"Sorry," I said quickly, taking a half step back, bumping against an empty chair. Being that I'd never really been _asked_ to dance before, I didn't really want to make a fool of myself in the middle of the dance floor. So, Bucky was teaching me to dance in the back of the bar.

"Hey, hey it's fine." Bucky chuckled, using the hand on my back to pull me towards him again. I looked away when his blue eyes met with mine and held them in their smoldering gaze. "Just follow me, ok?" he said, starting to move. I just nodded and kept glancing at my feet, trying to stay in time with Bucky and the music.

"Oh! Oh I'm-I'm sorry!" I said after I stepped on his foot again.

"_Glow_! Sweetheart, its fine!" Bucky chuckled again, taking the hand at the small of my back away and using the sides of his bent fingers to tip my chin up to look at him. "How 'bout you look at me, hm? Not down at your feet, at me." He said in a more 'teaching' tone as he replaced his hand at my back.

I nodded and swallowed quietly as I looked up at him and tried to keep in step. "So-So you said you asked someone about The Jabberwocky?" I asked.

Bucky chuckled and glanced down briefly before meeting my gaze again. "Yeah, yeah I did. I mean, I got most of it. It wasn't _that_ hard, but I didn't wanna sound stupid about it."

"You wouldn't sound stupid." I told him honestly, peeking down at my feet.

"Yeah, I'm sure I could, and _hey_," he paused, tapping my back twice with a finger after I stumbled. "Eyes up, darlin'." I nodded quickly and looked up at Bucky's face again.

"What smart things about the Jabberwocky did you pick up?" I asked him. I heard the song change in the background, but my grip on Bucky's hand and my other's spot on his shoulder didn't move, and Bucky continued to lead us into the faster paced song that started.

"Well…" Bucky trailed off, seemingly deep in thought. "It's about a boy, who kills the monster that terrorizes his village." He started, then looked down at me, like he was waiting to see it I had anything to add.

"It's-It's a really heroic thing, killing the jabberwocky, so, when the kid goes back to his village he's welcomed like a hero." Bucky continued, stopping. I was about to ask why, but then Bucky let go of my waist and pulled the hand he held over his head and twirled me once, swiftly bringing me back to him after I made a complete circle.

I let out a little squeak as I bumped into his chest, and looked up at Bucky with wide, surprised eyes. Two beats later we were back in step with the music. "So-So the boy was a hero in his village?" I asked, breathless.

"Yeah," Bucky said, nodding as he picked back up. "But, the opening and closing, uh…" he trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought. "_Damnit_…what was the word Percy used…?" Bucky mumbled. I don't think I was supposed to hear; mostly because he swore.

"Stanza?" I offered softly, giving him a little smile.

"_Yes_! Yeah, that's it." Bucky said, grinning. "The opening and closing stanzas are the same, so, it sorta like the kid did this amazing, heroic thing, and it saved the village, but there's still all sorts of stuff out there. So, in a sense, the kid didn't change much."

I looked up at him with a smile. "You know, after that, I have a hard time believing you failed English class." I told him.

Again, to my surprise, Bucky pulled me close and spun us around before dipping me. He easily held me just by his hand on my back. I gasped when I first realized what he was doing, and looked at him with the same shocked eyes as before.

"_Almost_ failed, Glow, _almost_." Bucky clarified lowly, a glint in his smoldering eyes that made my stomach flip over on itself.

He pulled me back up right, still holding me close. Not that I minded very much, but I was pressed up against his chest. Before, there had been an inch or two between us, now, I was flush against him. But it still wasn't in a raunchy way, it was intimate, like he just wanted to hold me closer. Once I'd calmed my racing heart a little, I heard what I realized were some claps and a few whistles.

In all the spinning and the twirling, Bucky had landed us in the center of the dance floor.

* * *

"You didn't _have_ to walk me back." I told Bucky, crossing my arms lightly over my chest in an effort to stay a little warmer.

"Aw, now what kind'a gentleman would I be if I let a lady walk home all on her own?" Bucky asked, smirking at me. He had one hand lazily in his pocket, the other had two fingers hooked into the collar of his jacket that was slung over his shoulder. "'Sides, I live there to."

After a few minutes of silence, I felt something (Bucky's jacket) being slung over my shoulders. I looked up at him, surprised, and he just sent me that little smirk paired with a shrug.

"You know…Your letters really helped…keep me, _sane_…Back in Italy." Bucky said, breaking the silence.

I shrugged. "Good. I kept writing you after you stopped replying, you know." I told him honesty. "Like-Like the night of the Expo…It's just nice to have someone to talk to."

"Yeah…" Bucky mumbled, nodding his head, jamming his hands deeper into his pockets.

"So, talked to Steve tonight." Bucky said a few minutes later, after we'd lapsed back into silence.

"Oh?" I asked, interested.

"Yeah, Phillips asked Steve to lead a team. He picked us over some'a the best already out there." Bucky explained, the half-smirk on his face seemed a little smugger.

"So, when are you shipping back out?" I asked, I forced my tone a little lighter.

Bucky just shrugged. "Whenever we get the A-ok from Dr. Matt, I guess." He admitted, his dark eyebrows furrowing a little. We'd made it back to the building by now, standing under the lit awning. I stopped and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. His tone changed, it wasn't carefree or teasing.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, moving to stand in front of him.

Bucky shrugged. "Not-Not _wrong_…Just…I mean this is _Steve_ we're talking about, Steve asking me to, you know, _save the world_." He brought his shoulders up as he said 'save the world,' emphasizing them with his voice. "How could I say _no_? I mean, I don't _wanna_ say no…"

"You know, I don't think you're supposed to be 'happy' about this." I said thoughtfully.

"What'da'ya mean?" Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes a little as his smirk grew.

"Well, you're going to a warzone." I reminded him. "If you were all gun-ho about this, I'd be a little concerned."

Bucky chuckled and shook his head again. "You just think you're so smart, don't you?" He asked, opening the door for me.

I shrugged, fiddling with a loose string on Bucky's jacket. "Well…If I wasn't, Steve wouldn't be here." _And you wouldn't be here, with me._

Bucky shrugged, pushing the gate of the elevator open and followed me in before shutting it again. "So." Bucky said once the small elevator started moving. "I'm goin' into a warzone." He stated.

"Yeah." I said quietly, playing with the sleeve of Bucky's jacket.

"Gotta wonder…" Bucky trailed off, turning towards me. We had been shoulder to shoulder (or, shoulder to upper arm in my case), so when he turned towards me, I took a stumbling step back as my heart sped up once I was under his intense blue gaze.

"Gotta wonder...if I'm gonna have someone waiting for me." Bucky's voice dropped, in both tone and volume, and he took a half-step towards me, his hands still jammed in his pockets.

"Oh…?" I said quietly, looking up at him, my back hitting the side of the elevator. "Who-Who did you have in mind?" I asked quietly.

"Well…" Bucky trailed off again, his head lolling to one side as he leaned forward towards me a little. "She's a real looker. Got these pretty brown doe eyes and blonde corkscrew curls." He said that teasing little smirk on his face as he took another half step closer to me.

"She sounds lovely." I breathed. The elevator stopped moving, but neither of us moved.

"Yeah, yeah she is." Bucky said, nodding a little. "But it's not just the pretty face with her."

"No?" I asked, almost breathless. This type of thing _just didn't happen to me_; boys didn't ask me to dance, they didn't walk me home and give me their jacket when they thought I was cold. And they _certainly_ didn't come up with witty lines in elevators and call me beautiful. They just…_didn't_.

"No." Bucky confirmed. "She's smart to…" Bucky was looking almost straight down at me by this point, I could feel the heat coming off his chest. "A little bit broken, maybe, but all the good ones are…Been my experience at least. 'Sides, someone as smart as her, even a little broken, she could fix me up in a heartbeat. Thing is, she doesn't know that she's the best dame to come 'otta Manhattan, and just won't believe me when I tell her."

"O-Oh?" Was all I could stutter out.

"Yeah." Bucky confirmed, shaking his head a little as his cerulean blue eyes continued to smolder down at me. "So I'm thinkin', maybe I should _stop_ telling her, and…_do_ _something_ about it."

"O-Oh…" I squeaked out again, my eyes widening as I watched him take a half step closer to me.

Bucky's head lolled to the other side, his hand came out of his pocket and slowly rose up until his knuckles brushed my cheek softly. My eyes fluttered shut and I tried to turn my face away, but Bucky's other hand gently turned it back to face him. I looked up at him as he used his hand to brush away one of the glossy waves, that were starting to curl at the ends again, away from my face.

I'd knew that Bucky was quite the ladies' man, so he'd probably been in this position with other girls, but right now, _I didn't care_. The look in his eyes was just indescribable. He looked down at me in a way that reminded me of a child with a puppy; like they were holding the most amazing, adorable, delicate thing in the world and they couldn't believe they were doing so; like he cared about me.

Bucky was leaning closer, like he was going to kiss me, then the elevator gate was opened.

Bucky didn't move a muscle, and I jumped. One of his hands moved to rest along side my head on the elevator wall, and hied head lolled forward and his eyes shut.

Howard was standing there, his hand still on the handle of the gate. His hair looked like he'd run his hands through it a few times and his jacket was pulled lazily over his wrinkled shirt.

"Uh…I was going for a coffee run…" Howard said awkwardly. He took in my blushed cheeks and what had to be my quickly moving chest. That, and the annoyed look I was giving him was enough of a hint to make Howard leave.

"I'll take the stairs." He said simply, shutting the gate before quickly walking away.

I felt my shoulders relax after he left, and my breathing begin to get back to normal. I looked up slowly at Bucky, who still hadn't moved. "That-That's happened t-twice, now, has-hasn't it?" I managed to stutter out.

Bucky made a little 'Hm' sound and bobbed his head once, then pushed off the wall. He opened the gate and gestured for me to get out first.

I saw Bucky standing on the other side of the elevator, one hand in his pocket, the other was at the back of his neck as he stared intently at the floor. He followed me silently, his hands jammed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched a little

"I-I had a nice time tonight." I said once I got to my door. Bucky nodded, that little smirk back on his face as he fell to lean against the wall. I shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him. "You know, you-you aren't going to be gone all the time…You will sometimes have weeks between the raids or missions or whatever you all are calling them…Maybe-Maybe we could go out again." I said sheepishly, fumbling around my purse to get my key.

I looked up and saw Bucky looking at me with those smoldering blue eyes, and a little half smirk in his face, like he knew something I didn't. "G'night Glow." Bucky said quietly, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

It was slower than the last time, more lingering. After his lips pressed to my cheek, the stubble on his upper lip was surprisingly pleasant and his forehead rested briefly on my temple. My eyes had fluttered shut before he even kissed my cheek and the corner of my mouth twitched up a little when he pressed one more quick kiss to my cheekbone before leaning back.

I pushed my door open, then looked back at Bucky, who was leaning against the wall again. "Goodnight." I said quietly, before going into my small apartment.


End file.
